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THE  ROOTS  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


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K 


. '/V 
■ 


THE  ROOTS  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS 
WHEREIN  IS  TOLD  SOMEWHAT  OF 
THE  LIVES  OF  THE  MEN  OF  BURG/ 
DALE  THEIR  FRIENDS  THEIR 
NEIGHBOURS  THEIR  FOEMEN  AND 
THEIR  FELLOWS  IN  ARMS 
BY  WILLIAM  MORRIS 


WHILES  CARRIED  O’ER  THE  IRON  ROAD, 

WE  HURRY  BY  SOME  FAIR  ABODE  ; 

THE  GARDEN  BRIGHT  AMIDST  THE  HAY, 

THE  YELLOW  WAIN  UPON  THE  WAY, 

THE  DINING  MEN,  THE  WIND  THAT  SWEEPS 
LIGHT  LOCKS  FROM  OFF  THE  SUN-SWEET  HEAPS — 
THE  GABLE  GREY,  THE  HOARY  ROOF, 

HERE  NOW — AND  NOW  SO  FAR  ALOOF. 

HOW  SORELY  THEN  WE  LONG  TO  STAY 
AND  MIDST  ITS  SWEETNESS  WEAR  THE  DAY, 

AND  ’NEATH  ITS  CHANGING  SHADOWS  SIT, 

AND  FEEL  OURSELVES  A PART  OF  IT. 

SUCH  REST,  SUCH  STAY,  I STROVE  TO  WIN 
WITH  THESE  SAME  LEAVES  THAT  LIE  HEREIN. 


LONGMANS,  GREEN,  AND  CO. 

LONDON,  NEW  YORK,  AND  BOMBAY 


MDCCCCVI 


First  Edition  printed  November^  1889. 

250  copies  were  printed  on  Large  Paper. 
Second  Edition^  February^  ^^93* 

Third  Impression.^  March.^  1906. 


•C.CiYYv 


CONTENTS. 


0 


chapter  /. 
II. 

III. 

IV. 
V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIIL 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXL 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 
XXVII. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 

XXXIII. 

XXXIV. 

XXXV. 


of  Burgstead  and  its  Folk  and  its  Neighbours  . 

Of  Face- of  ^ god  and  his  Kindred 

They  talk  of  divers  matters  in  the  Hall  . . , , 

Face-of-god  fareth  to  the  Wood  again  .... 
Face^of-god  falls  in  with  Menfolk  on  the  Mountain 
Of  Face-of-god  and  those  Mountain-dwellers  . 
Face-of-god  talketh  with  the  Friend  on  the  Mountain 
Face-of-god  cometh  home  again  to  Burgstead  . 
Those  Brethren  far^e  to  the  Yew -wood  with  the  Bride 

New  Tidings  in  the  Dale 

Men  make  Oath  at  Burgstead  on  the  Holy  Boar 
Stone-face  telleth  concerning  the  Wood-wights  . 

They  fare  to  the  Hunting  of  the  Elk 

Concerning  Face-of-god  and  the  Mountain  . . 

Murder  amongst  the  Folk  of  the  Woodlanders  . 

The  Bride  speaketh  with  Face-of-god 

The  Token  cometh  from  the  Mountain  . . . . 

Face-of-god  talketh  with  the  Friend  in  Shadowy  Vale 
The  fair  Woman  telleth  Face-of-god  of  her  Kindred 
Those  two  together  hold  the  Ring  of  the  Earth-god 
Face-of-god  looketh  on  the  Dusky  Men  . • • . 
Face-of-god  cometh  home  to  Burgstead  .... 
Talk  in  the  Hall  of  the  House  of  the  Face  . . 

Face-of-god  giveth  that  Token  to  the  Bride  . 

Of  the  Gate-thing  at  Burgstead 

The  Ending  of  the  Gate-thing 

Face-of-god  leadeth  a Band  through  the  Wood  . 

The  Men  of  Burgdale  meet  the  Runaways  . 

They  bring  the  Runaways  to  Burgstead  .... 
Hall-face  goeth  toward  Rose-dale  .... 

Of  the  Weapon-show  of  the  Men  of  Burgdale  and 

their  Neighbours 

The  Men  of  Shadowy  Vale  come  to  the  Spring 

Market  at  Burgstead 

The  Alderman  gives  Gifts  to  them  of  Shadowy  Vale 
The  Chieftains  take  counsel  in  the  Hall  of  the  Face 
Face-of-god  talketh  with  the  Sun-beam  .... 


Page 

1 

12 

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25 

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39 

50 

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59 

63 

69 

74 

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87 

93 

97 

105 

109 

124 

141 

151 

162 

165 

170 

183 

191 

202 

216 

225 

231 

239 

251 

255 

268 


Chapter 

XXXVI, 

XXXVII. 


XXXVIII, 

XXXIX, 


XL. 

XLL 

XLII. 

XLIII. 

XLIV. 

XLV. 
XLVI. 
XLV II. 
XLVIII. 
XLIX. 

L. 

LI. 

LII. 

LIII. 

LIV. 
LV. 
LVI. 
LVIL 
LVI II. 
LIX. 


Folk^might  speaketh  with  the  Bride 

Of  the  Folk^mote  of  the  Dalesmen^  the  Shepherd- 
Folk^  and  the  Woodland  Carles : the  Banner  of 

the  Wolf  displayed 

Of  the  Great  Folk-mote : Atonements  given,  and 

Men  made  sackless 

Of  the  Great  Folk-mote : Men  take  rede  of  the  War- 
faring,  the  Fellowship,  and  the  War-leader.  Folk- 
might  telleth  whence  his  People  came.  The  Folk- 

mote  sundered 

Of  the  Hosting  in  Shadowy  Vale 

The  Host  departeth  from  Shadowy  Vale : the  first 

Day' s journey 

The  Host  cometh  to  the  edges  of  Silver-dale  . . 

Face-of-god  looketh  on  Silver-dale : the  Bowmen's 

battle 

Of  the  Onslaught  of  the  Men  of  the  Steer,  the 

Bridge,  and  the  Bull 

Of  Face-of-god^ s Onslaught  ....... 

Men  meet  in  the  Market  of  Silver-stead  . , . 

The  Kindreds  win  the  Mote-house 

Men  sing  in  the  Mote-house 

Dallach  fareth  to  Rose-dale:  Crow  telleth  of  his 
Errand:  the  Kindreds  eat  their  meat  in  Silver-dale 
Folk-might  seeth  the  Bride  and  speaketh  with  her  . 
The  Dead  borne  to  bale : the  Mote-house  re-hallowed 
Of  the  new  Beginning  of  good  Days  in  Silver-dale 
Of  the  Word  which  Hall-ward  of  the  Steer  had  for 

Folk-might 

Tidings  of  Dallach : a Folk-mote  in  Silver-dale  . 

Departure  from  Silver-dale 

Talk  upon  the  Wild-wood  Way 

How  the  Host  came  home  again 

How  the  Maiden  Ward  was  held  in  Burgdale  . 

The  Behest  of  Face-of-god  to  the  Bride  accom- 
plished : a Mote-stead  appointed  for  the  three 
Folks,  to  wit,  the  Men  of  Burgdale,  the  Shepherds, 
and  the  Children  of  the  Wolf 


275 

282 

287 


292 

301 


311 

318 

322 

335 

343 

352 

363 

367 

372 

378 

382 

384 

386 

391 

394 

403 

404 
400 


418 


THE  ROOTS  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS 

CHAPTER  I.  OF  BURGSTEAD  AND  ITS  FOLK  AND  ITS 
NEIGHBOURS. 

ONCE  upon  a time  amidst  the  mountains  and  hills  and 
falling  streams  of  a fair  land  there  was  a town  or  thorp 
in  a certain  valley.  This  was  well-nigh  encompassed  by 
a wall  of  sheer  cliffs ; toward  the  East  and  the  great  mountains 
they  drew  together  till  they  went  near  to  meet,  and  left  but  a 
narrow  path  on  either  side  of  a stony  stream  that  came  rattling 
down  into  the  Dale  : toward  the  river  at  that  end  the  hills  lowered 
somewhat,  though  they  still  ended  in  sheer  rocks ; but  up  from 
it,  and  more  especially  on  the  north  side,  they  swelled  into  great 
shoulders  of  land,  then  dipped  a little,  and  rose  again  into  the 
sides  of  huge  fells  clad  with  pine-woods,  and  cleft  here  and  there 
by  deep  ghylls  : thence  again  they  rose  higher  and  steeper,  and 
ever  higher  till  they  drew  dark  and  naked  out  of  the  woods  to 
meet  the  snow-fields  and  ice-rivers  of  the  high  mountains.  But 
that  was  far  away  from  the  pass  by  the  little  river  into  the  valley ; 
and  the  said  river  was  no  drain  from  the  snow-fields  white  and 
thick  with  the  grinding  of  the  ice,  but  clear  and  bright  were  its 
waters  that  came  from  wells  amidst  the  bare  rocky  heaths. 

The  upper  end  of  the  valley,  where  it  first  began  to  open  out 
from  the  pass,  was  rugged  and  broken  by  rocks  and  ridges  of 
water-borne  stones,  but  presently  it  smoothed  itself  into  mere 
grassy  swellings  and  knolls,  and  at  last  into  a fair  and  fertile 
plain  swelling  up  into  a green  wave,  as  it  were,  against  the  rock- 
wall  which  encompassed  it  on  all  sides  save  where  the  river  came 
gushing  out  of  the  strait  pass  at  the  east  end,  and  where  at  the 
west  end  it  poured  itself  out  of  the  Dale  toward  the  lowlands  and 
the  plain  of  the  great  river. 

Now  the  valley  was  some  ten  miles  of  our  measure  from  that 
place  of  the  rocks  and  the  stone-ridges,  to  where  the  faces  of  the 
hills  drew  somewhat  anigh  to  the  river  again  at  the  west,  and 

I B 


Of  the  waters 
of  Burgdale. 


then  fell  aback  along  the  edge  of  the  great  plain  ; like  as  when 
ye  fare  a-sailing  past  two  nesses  of  a river-mouth,  and  the  main- 
sea  lieth  open  before  you. 

Besides  the  river  afore-mentioned,  which  men  called  the  Wel- 
tering Water,  there  were  other  waters  in  the  Dale.  Near  the 
eastern  pass,  entangled  in  the  rocky  ground  was  a deep  tarn  full 
of  cold  springs  and  about  two  acres  in  measure,  and  therefrom 
ran  a stream  which  fell  into  the  Weltering  Water  amidst  the 
grassy  knolls.  Black  seemed  the  waters  of  that  tarn  which  on 
one  side  washed  the  rocks-wall  of  the  Dale ; ugly  and  aweful  it 
seemed  to  men,  and  none  knew  what  lay  beneath  its  waters  save 
black  mis-shapen  trouts  that  few  cared  to  bring  to  net  or  angle : 
and  it  was  called  the  Death-Tarn. 

Other  waters  yet  there  were ; here  and  there  from  the  hills  on 
both  sides,  but  especially  from  the  south  side,  came  trickles  of 
water  that  ran  in  pretty  brooks  down  to  the  river  ; and  some  of 
these  sprang  bubbling  up  amidst  the  foot-mounds  of  the  sheer- 
rocks  ; some  had  cleft  a rugged  and  strait  way  through  them, 
and  came  tumbling  down  into  the  Dale  at  diverse  heights  from 
their  faces.  But  on  the  north  side  about  halfway  down  the  Dale, 
one  stream  somewhat  bigger  than  the  others,  and  dealing  with 
softer  ground,  had  cleft  for  itself  a wider  way ; and  the  folk  had 
laboured  this  way  wider  yet,  till  they  had  made  them  a road  run- 
ning north  along  the  west  side  of  the  stream.  Sooth  to  say,  ex- 
cept for  the  strait  pass  along  the  river  at  the  eastern  end,  and  the 
wider  pass  at  the  western,  they  had  no  other  way  (save  one  of 
which  a word  anon)  out  of  the  Dale  but  such  as  mountain  goats 
and  bold  cragsmen  might  take  ; and  even  of  these  but  few. 

This  midway  stream  was  called  the  Wildlake,  and  the  way 
along  it  Wildlake’s  Way,  because  it  came  to  them  out  of  the 
wood,  which  on  that  north  side  stretched  away  from  nigh  to  the 
lip  of  the  valley-wall  up  to  the  pine  woods  and  the  high  fells  on 
the  east  and  north,  and  down  to  the  plain  country  on  the  west 
and  south. 


2 


Now  when  the  Weltering  Water  came  out  of  the  rocky  tangle  Of  the  Port- 
near  the  pass,  it  was  turned  aside  by  the  ground  till  it  swung 
right  up  to  the  feet  of  the  Southern  crags ; then  it  turned  and 
slowly  bent  round  again  northward,  and  at  last  fairly  doubled 
back  on  itself  before  it  turned  again  to  run  westward  ; so  that 
when,  after  its  second  double,  it  had  come  to  flowing  softly  west- 
ward under  the  northern  crags,  it  had  cast  two  thirds  of  a girdle 
round  about  a space  of  land  a little  below  the  grassy  knolls  and 
tofts  aforesaid ; and  there  in  that  fair  space  between  the  folds  of 
the  Weltering  Water  stood  the  Thorp  whereof  the  tale  hath  told. 

The  men  thereof  had  widened  and  deepened  the  Weltering 
Water  about  them,  and  had  bridged  it  over  to  the  plain  meads  ; 
and  athwart  the  throat  of  the  space  left  clear  by  the  water  they 
had  built  them  a strong  wall  though  not  very  high,  with  a gate 
amidst  and  a tower  on  either  side  thereof,  Moreover,  on  the 
face  of  the  cliff  which  was  but  a stone’s  throw  from  the  gate  they 
had  made  them  stairs  and  ladders  to  go  up  by ; and  on  a knoll 
nigh  the  brow  had  built  a watch-tower  of  stone  strong  and  great, 
lest  war  should  come  into  the  land  from  over  the  hills.  That 
tower  was  ancient,  and  therefrom  the  Thorp  had  its  name  and  the 
whole  valley  also ; and  it  was  called  Burgstead  in  Burgdale. 

So  long  as  the  Weltering  Water  ran  straight  along  by  the 
northern  cliffs  after  it  had  left  Burgstead,  betwixt  the  water  and 
the  cliffs  was  a wide  flat  way  fashioned  by  man’s  hand.  Thus 
was  the  water  again  a good  defence  to  the  Thorp,  for  it  ran  slow 
and  deep  there,  and  there  was  no  other  ground  betwixt  it  and  the 
cliffs  save  that  road,  which  was  easy  to  bar  across  so  that  no  foe- 
men  might  pass  without  battle,  and  this  road  was  called  the  Port- 
way. For  a long  mile  the  river  ran  under  the  northern  cliffs,  and 
then  turned  into  the  midst  of  the  Dale,  and  went  its  way  west- 
ward a broad  stream  winding  in  gentle  laps  and  folds  here  and 
there  down  to  the  out-gate  of  the  Dale.  But  the  Portway  held 
on  still  underneath  the  rock-wall,  till  the  sheer-rocks  grew  some- 
what broken,  and  were  cumbered  with  certain  screes,  and  at  last 

3 


Of wildlake’s  the  wayfarer  came  upon  the  break  in  them,  and  the  ghyll  through 
Way  and  the  which  ran  the  Wildlake  with  Wildlake’s  Way  beside  it,  but  the 
Mote-stead.  Portway  still  went  on  all  down  the  Dale  and  away  to  the  Plain- 
country. 

That  road  in  the  ghyll,  which  was  neither  wide  nor  smooth, 
the  wayfarer  into  the  wood  must  follow,  till  it  lifted  itself  out  of 
the  ghyll,  and  left  the  Wildlake  coming  rattling  down  by  many 
steps  from  the  east;  and  now  the  way  went  straight  north  through 
the  woodland,  ever  mounting  higher,  (because  the  whole  set  of 
the  land  was  toward  the  high  fells,)  but  not  in  any  cleft  or  ghyll. 
The  wood  itself  thereabout  was  thick,  a blended  growth  of  diverse 
kinds  of  trees,  but  most  of  oak  and  ash  ; light  and  air  enough 
came  through  their  boughs  to  suffer  the  holly  and  bramble  and 
eglantine  and  other  small  wood  to  grow  together  into  thickets, 
which  no  man  could  pass  without  hewing  a way.  But  before  it 
is  told  whereto  Wildlake’s  Way  led,  it  must  be  said  that  on  the 
east  side  of  the  ghyll,  where  it  first  began  just  over  the  Portway, 
the  hill’s  brow  was  clear  of  wood  for  a certain  space,  and  there, 
overlooking  all  the  Dale,  was  the  Mote-stead  of  the  Dalesmen, 
marked  out  by  a great  ring  of  stones,  amidst  of  which  was  the 
mound  for  the  Judges  and  the  Altar  of  the  Gods  before  it.  And 
this  was  the  holy  place  of  the  men  of  the  Dale  and  of  other  folk 
whereof  the  tale  shall  now  tell. 

For  when  Wildlake’s  Way  had  gone  some  three  miles  from 
the  Mote-stead,  the  trees  began  to  thin,  and  presently  afterwards 
was  a clearing  and  the  dwellings  of  men,  built  of  timber  as  may 
well  be  thought.  These  houses  were  neither  rich  nor  great,  nor 
was  the  folk  a mighty  folk,  because  they  were  but  a few,  albeit 
body  by  body  they  were  stout  carles  enough.  They  had  not 
affinity  with  the  Dalesmen,  and  did  not  wed  with  them,  yet  it 
is  to  be  deemed  that  they  were  somewhat  akin  to  them.  To  be 
short,  though  they  were  freemen,  yet  as  regards  the  Dalesmen 
were  they  well-nigh  their  servants ; for  they  were  but  poor  in 
goods,  and  had  to  lean  upon  them  somewhat.  No  tillage  they 

4 


had  among  those  high  trees  ; and  of  beasts  nought  save  some 
flocks  of  goats  and  a few  asses.  Hunters  they  were,  and  char- 
coal-burners, and  therein  the  deftest  of  men,  and  they  could  shoot 
well  in  the  bow  withal : so  they  trucked  their  charcoal  and  their 
smoked  venison  and  their  peltries  with  the  Dalesmen  for  wheat 
and  wine  and  weapons  and  weed;  and  the  Dalesmen  gave  them 
main  good  pennyworths,  as  men  who  had  abundance  wherewith 
to  uphold  their  kinsmen,  though  they  were  but  far-away  kin. 
Stout  hands  had  these  Woodlanders  and  true  hearts  as  any;  but 
they  were  few-spoken  and  to  those  that  needed  them  not  some- 
what surly  of  speech  and  grim  of  visage:  brown-skinned  they 
were,  but  light-haired ; well-eyed,  with  but  little  red  in  their 
cheeks : their  women  were  not  very  fair,  for  they  toiled  like  the 
men,  or  more.  They  were  thought  to  be  wiser  than  most  men 
in  foreseeing  things  to  come.  They  were  much  given  to  spells, 
and  songs  of  wizardry,  and  were  very  mindful  of  the  old  story- 
lays,  wherein  they  were  far  more  wordy  than  in  their  daily  speech. 
Much  skill  had  they  in  runes,  and  were  exceeding  deft  in  scor- 
ing them  on  treen  bowls,  and  on  staves,  and  door-posts  and  roof- 
beams  and  standing-beds  and  such  like  things.  Many  a day  when 
the  snow  was  drifting  over  their  roofs,  and  hanging  heavy  on  the 
tree-boughs,  and  the  wind  was  roaring  through  the  trees  aloft  and 
rattling  about  the  close  thicket,  when  the  boughs  were  clattering 
in  the  wind,  and  crashing  down  beneath  the  weight  of  the  gathering 
freezing  snow,  when  all  beasts  and  men  lay  close  in  their  lairs, 
would  they  sit  long  hours  about  the  house-fire  with  the  knife  or  the 
gouge  in  hand,  with  the  timber  twixt  their  knees  and  the  whetstone 
beside  them,  hearkening  to  some  tale  of  old  times  and  the  days 
when  their  banner  was  abroad  In  the  world;  and  they  the  while 
wheedling  into  growth  out  of  the  tough  wood  knots  and  blossoms 
and  leaves  and  the  images  of  beasts  and  warriors  and  women. 

They  were  called  nought  save  the  Woodland-Carles  in  that 
day,  though  time  had  been  when  they  had  borne  a nobler  name : 
and  their  abode  was  called  Carlstead.  Shortly,  for  all  they  had 

5 


Of  the  Wood- 
land-Caries. 


Of  the  Shep- 
herd-Folk. 


and  all  they  had  not,  for  all  they  were  and  all  they  were  not, 
they  were  well-beloved  by  their  friends  and  feared  by  their  foes. 

Now  when  Wildlake’s  Way  was  gotten  to  Carlstead,  there 
was  an  end  of  it  toward  the  north;  though  beyond  it  in  a right 
line  the  wood  was  thinner,  because  of  the  hewing  of  the  Carles. 
But  the  road  itself  turned  west  at  once  and  went  on  through  the 
wood,  till  some  four  miles  further  it  first  thinned  and  then  ceased 
altogether,  the  ground  going  down-hill  all  the  way : for  this  was 
the  lower  flank  of  the  first  great  upheaval  toward  the  high  moun- 
tains. But  presently,  after  the  wood  was  ended,  the  land  broke 
into  swelling  downs  and  winding  dales  of  no  great  height  or  depth, 
with  a few  scattered  trees  about  the  hill-sides,  mostly  thorns  or 
scrubby  oaks,  gnarled  and  bent  and  kept  down  by  the  western 
wind:  here  and  there  also  were  yew-trees,  and  whiles  the  hill- 
sides would  be  grown  over  with  box-wood,  but  none  very  great; 
and  often  juniper  grew  abundantly.  This  then  was  the  country 
of  the  Shepherds,  who  were  friends  both  of  the  Dalesmen  and  the 
Woodlanders.  They  dwelt  not  in  any  fenced  town  or  thorp,  but 
their  homesteads  were  scattered  about  as  was  handy  for  water  and 
shelter.  Nevertheless  they  had  their  own  stronghold;  for  amid- 
most of  their  country,  on  the  highest  of  a certain  down  above  a 
bottom  where  a willowy  stream  winded,  was  a great  earthwork : 
the  walls  thereof  were  high  and  clean  and  overlapping  at  the  en- 
tering in,  and  amidst  of  it  was  a deep  well  of  water,  so  that  it  was 
a very  defensible  place : and  thereto  would  they  drive  their  flocks 
and  herds  when  war  was  in  the  land,  for  nought  but  a very  great 
host  might  win  it ; and  this  stronghold  they  called  Greenbury. 

These  Shepherd-F oik  were  strong  and  tall  like  the  W oodlanders, 
for  they  were  partly  of  the  same  blood,  but  burnt  they  were  both 
ruddy  and  brown : they  were  of  more  words  than  the  Woodlanders, 
but  yet  not  many-worded.  They  knew  well  all  those  old  story-lays, 
(and  this  partly  by  the  minstrelsy  of  the  Woodlanders,)  but  they 
had  scant  skill  in  wizardry,  and  would  send  for  the  Woodlanders, 
both  men  and  women,  to  do  whatso  they  needed  therein.  They 

6 


were  very  hale  and  long-lived,  whereas  they  dwelt  in  clear  bright 
air,  and  they  mostly  went  light-clad  even  in  the  winter,  so  strong 
and  merry  were  they.  They  wedded  with  the  Woodlanders  and 
the  Dalesmen  both ; at  least  certain  houses  of  them  did  so.  They 
grew  no  corn ; nought  but  a few  pot-herbs,  but  had  their  meal  of 
the  Dalesmen ; and  in  the  summer  they  drave  some  of  their  milch- 
kine  into  the  Dale  for  the  abundance  of  grass  there;  whereas  their 
own  hills  and  bents  and  winding  valleys  were  not  plenteously 
watered,  except  here  and  there  as  in  the  bottom  under  Green- 
bury.  No  swine  they  had,  and  but  few  horses,  but  of  sheep  very 
many,  and  of  the  best  both  for  their  flesh  and  their  wool.  Yet 
were  they  nought  so  deft  craftsmen  at  the  loom  as  were  the  Dales- 
men, and  their  women  were  not  very  eager  at  the  weaving,  though 
they  loathed  not  the  spindle  and  rock.  Shortly,  they  were  merry 
folk  well-beloved  of  the  Dalesmen,  quick  to  wrath,  though  it 
abode  not  long  with  them ; not  very  curious  in  their  houses  and 
halls,  which  were  but  little,  and  were  decked  mostly  with  the 
handiwork  of  the  Woodland-Carles  their  guests;  who  when  they 
were  abiding  with  them,  would  oft  stand  long  hours  nose  to  beam, 
scoring  and  nicking  and  hammering,  answering  no  word  spoken 
to  them  but  with  aye  or  no,  desiring  nought  save  the  endurance 
of  the  daylight.  Moreover,  this  shepherd-folk  heeded  not  gay 
raiment  overmuch,  but  commonly  went  clad  in  white  woollen  or 
sheep-brown  weed. 

But  beyond  this  shepherd-folk  were  more  downs  and  more, 
scantily  peopled,  and  that  after  a while  by  folk  with  whom  they 
had  no  kinship  or  affinity,  and  who  were  at  whiles  their  foes. 
Yet  was  there  no  enduring  enmity  between  them ; and  ever  after 
war  and  battle  came  peace;  and  all  blood-wites  were  duly  paid 
and  no  long  feud  followed:  nor  were  the  Dalesmen  and  the 
Woodlanders  always  in  these  wars,  though  at  whiles  they  were. 
Thus  then  it  fared  with  these  people. 

But  now  that  we  have  told  of  the  folks  with  whom  the  Dales- 
men had  kinship,  affinity,  and  friendship,  tell  we  of  their  chief 

7 


Of  the  Shep- 
herd-Folk. 


Of  Burgstead  abode,  Burgstead  to  wit,  and  of  its  fashion.  As  hath  been  told, 
and  its  houses,  it  lay  upon  the  land  made  nigh  into  an  isle  by  the  folds  of  the 
Weltering  Water  towards  the  uppermost  end  of  the  Dale;  and 
it  was  warded  by  the  deep  water,  and  by  the  wall  aforesaid  with 
its  towers.  Now  the  Dale  at  its  widest,  to  wit  where  Wildlake 
fell  into  it,  was  but  nine  furlongs  over,  but  at  Burgstead  it  was 
far  narrower ; so  that  betwixt  the  wall  and  the  wandering  stream 
there  was  but  a space  of  fifty  acres,  and  therein  lay  Burgstead 
in  a space  of  the  shape  of  a sword-pommel : and  the  houses  of 
the  kinships  lay  about  it,  amidst  of  gardens  and  orchards,  but 
little  ordered  into  streets  and  lanes,  save  that  a way  went  clean 
through  everything  from  the  tower-warded  gate  to  the  bridge 
over  the  Water,  which  was  warded  by  two  other  towers  on  its 
hither  side. 

As  to  the  houses,  they  were  some  bigger,  some  smaller,  as  the 
house-mates  needed.  Some  were  old,  but  not  very  old,  save  two 
only,  and  some  quite  new,  but  of  these  there  were  not  many ; they 
were  all  built  fairly  of  stone  and  lime,  with  much  fair  and  curious 
carved  work  of  knots  and  beasts  and  men  round  about  the  doors ; 
or  whiles  a wale  of  such-like  work  all  along  the  house-front.  For 
as  deft  as  were  the  Woodlanders  with  knife  and  gouge  on  the 
oaken  beams,  even  so  deft  were  the  Dalesmen  with  mallet  and 
chisel  on  the  face  of  the  hewn  stone  ; and  this  was  a great  pas- 
time about  the  Thorp.  Within  these  houses  had  but  a hall  and 
solar,  with  shut-beds  out  from  the  hall  on  one  side  or  two,  with 
whatso  of  kitchen  and  buttery  and  out-bower  men  deemed  handy. 
Many  men  dwelt  in  each  house,  either  kinsfolk,  or  such  as  were 
joined  to  the  kindred. 

Near  to  the  gate  of  Burgstead  in  that  street  aforesaid  and 
facing  east  was  the  biggest  house  of  the  Thorp  ; it  was  one  of 
the  two  abovesaid  which  were  older  than  any  other.  Its  door- 
posts and  the  lintel  of  the  door  were  carved  with  knots  and  twi- 
ning stems  fairer  than  other  houses  of  that  stead ; and  on  the 
wall  beside  the  door  carved  over  many  stones  was  an  image 

8 


wrought  in  the  likeness  of  a man  with  a wide  face,  which  was 
terrible  to  behold,  although  it  smiled : he  bore  a bent  bow  in  his 
hand  with  an  arrow  fitted  to  its  string,  and  about  the  head  of  him 
was  a ring  of  rays  like  the  beams  of  the  sun,  and  at  his  feet  was 
a dragon,  which  had  crept,  as  it  were,  from  amidst  of  the  blos- 
somed knots  of  the  door-post  wherewith  the  tail  of  him  was  yet 
entwined.  And  this  head  with  the  ring  of  rays  about  it  was 
wrought  into  the  adornment  of  that  house,  both  within  and  with- 
out, in  many  other  places,  but  on  never  another  house  of  the  Dale ; 
and  it  was  called  the  House  of  the  Face.  Thereof  hath  the  tale 
much  to  tell  hereafter,  but  as  now  it  goeth  on  to  tell  of  the  ways 
of  life  of  the  Dalesmen. 

In  Burgstead  was  no  Mote-hall  or  Town-house  or  Church, 
such  as  we  wot  of  in  these  days ; and  their  market-place  was 
wheresoever  any  might  choose  to  pitch  a booth : but  for  the  most 
part  this  was  done  in  the  wide  street  betwixt  the  gate  and  the 
bridge.  As  to  a meeting-place,  were  there  any  small  matters 
between  man  and  man,  these  would  the  Alderman  or  one  of  the 
Wardens  deal  with,  sitting  in  Court  with  the  neighbours  on  the 
wide  space  just  outside  the  Gate : but  if  it  were  to  do  with  greater 
matters,  such  as  great  manslayings  and  blood-wites,  or  the  making 
of  war  or  ending  of  it,  or  the  choosing  of  the  Alderman  and  the 
Wardens,  such  matters  must  be  put  off  to  the  Folk-mote,  which 
could  but  be  held  in  the  place  aforesaid  where  was  the  Doom-ring 
and  the  Altar  of  the  Gods ; and  at  that  Folk-mote  both  the  Shep- 
herd-Folk and  the  Woodland-Carles  foregathered  with  the  Dales- 
men, and  duly  said  their  say.  There  also  they  held  their  great 
feasts  and  made  offerings  to  the  Gods  for  the  Fruitfulness  of  the 
Year,  the  Ingathering  of  the  Increase,  and  in  Memory  of  their 
Forefathers.  Natheless  at  Yule-tide  also  they  feasted  from  house 
to  house  to  be  glad  with  the  rest  of  Midwinter,  and  many  a cup 
they  drank  at  those  feasts  to  the  memory  of  the  fathers,  and  the 
days  when  the  world  was  wider  to  them,  and  their  banners  fared 
far  afield. 


Of  the  House 
of  the  Face. 
Of  Feasts  and 
Folk-motes, 


9 


c 


of  the  hus- 
bandry of  the 
Dalesmen  and 
their  beasts. 


But  besides  these  dwellings  of  men  in  the  field  between  the 
wall  and  the  water,  there  were  homesteads  up  and  down  the  Dale 
whereso  men  found  it  easy  and  pleasant  to  dwell  : their  halls 
were  built  of  much  the  same  fashion  as  those  within  the  Thorp ; 
but  many  had  a high  garth-wall  cast  about  them,  so  that  they 
might  make  a stout  defence  in  their  own  houses  if  war  came  into 
the  Dale. 

As  to  their  work  afield ; in  many  places  the  Dale  was  fair  with 
growth  of  trees,  and  especially  were  there  long  groves  of  sweet 
chestnut  standing  on  the  grass,  of  the  fruit  whereof  the  folk  had 
much  gain.  Also  on  the  south  side  nigh  to  the  western  end  was 
a wood  or  two  of  yew-trees  very  great  and  old,  whence  they  gat 
them  bow-staves,  for  the  Dalesmen  also  shot  well  in  the  bow. 
Much  wheat  and  rye  they  raised  in  the  Dale,  and  especially  at 
the  nether  end  thereof.  Apples  and  pears  and  cherries  and  plums 
they  had  in  plenty;  of  which  trees,  some  grew  about  the  borders 
of  the  acres,  some  in  the  gardens  of  the  Thorp  and  the  home- 
steads. On  the  slopes  that  had  grown  from  the  breaking  down 
here  and  there  of  the  Northern  cliffs,  and  which  faced  the  South 
and  the  Sun’s  burning,  were  rows  of  goodly  vines,  whereof  the 
folk  made  them  enough  and  to  spare  of  strong  wine  both  white 
and  red. 

As  to  their  beasts ; swine  they  had  a many,  but  not  many  sheep, 
since  herein  they  trusted  to  their  trucking  with  their  friends  the 
Shepherds ; they  had  horses,  and  yet  but  a few,  for  they  were 
stout  in  going  afoot ; and,  had  they  a journey  to  make  with 
women  big  with  babes,  or  with  children  or  outworn  elders,  they 
would  yoke  their  oxen  to  their  wains,  and  go  fair  and  softly 
whither  they  would.  But  the  said  oxen  and  all  their  neat  were 
exceeding  big  and  fair,  far  other  than  the  little  beasts  of  the 
Shepherd-Folk;  they  were  either  dun  of  colour,  or  white  with 
black  horns  (and  those  very  great)  and  black  tail-tufts  and  ear- 
tips.  Asses  they  had,  and  mules  for  the  paths  of  the  mountains 
to  the  east ; geese  and  hens  enough,  and  dogs  not  a few,  great 

10 


hounds  stronger  than  wolves,  sharp-nosed,  long-jawed,  dun  of 
colour,  shag-haired. 

As  to  their  wares ; they  were  very  deft  weavers  of  wool  and 
flax,  and  made  a shift  to  dye  the  thrums  in  fair  colours  ; since 
both  woad  and  madder  came  to  them  good  cheap  by  means  of 
the  merchants  of  the  plain  country,  and  of  greening  weeds  was 
abundance  at  hand.  Good  smiths  they  were  in  all  the  metals  : 
they  washed  somewhat  of  gold  out  of  the  sands  of  the  Weltering 
Water,  and  copper  and  tin  they  fetched  from  the  rocks  of  the 
eastern  mountains ; but  of  silver  they  saw  little,  and  iron  they 
must  buy  of  the  merchants  of  the  plain,  who  came  to  them  twice 
in  the  year,  to  wit  in  the  spring  and  the  late  autumn  just  before 
the  snows.  Their  wares  they  bought  with  wool  spun  and  in  the 
fleece,  and  fine  cloth,  and  skins  of  wine  and  young  neat  both 
steers  and  heifers,  and  wrought  copper  bowls,  and  gold  and  copper 
by  weight,  for  they  had  no  stamped  money.  And  they  guested 
these  merchants  well,  for  they  loved  them,  because  of  the  tales 
they  told  them  of  the  Plain  and  its  cities,  and  the  manslayings 
therein,  and  the  fall  of  Kings  and  Dukes,  and  the  uprising  of 
Captains. 

Thus  then  lived  this  folk  in  much  plenty  and  ease  of  life, 
though  not  delicately  nor  desiring  things  out  of  measure.  They 
wrought  with  their  hands  and  wearied  themselves  ; and  they 
rested  from  their  toil  and  feasted  and  were  merry  : to-morrow 
was  not  a burden  to  them,  nor  yesterday  a thing  which  they  would 
fain  forget : life  shamed  them  not,  nor  did  death  make  them 
afraid. 

As  for  the  Dale  wherein  they  dwelt,  it  was  indeed  most  fair 
and  lovely,  and  they  deemed  it  the  Blessing  of  the  Earth,  and 
they  trod  its  flowery  grass  beside  its  rippled  streams  amidst  its 
green  tree-boughs  proudly  and  joyfully  with  goodly  bodies  and 
merry  hearts. 


Of  the  wares 
ot  the  Dales- 
men, 


IT 


CHAPTER  II.  OF  FACE-OF-GOD  AND  HIS  KINDRED. 


A man 
cometh  from 
out  of  the 
wood. 


Tells  the  tale,  that  on  an  evening  of  late  autumn  when 
the  weather  was  fair,  calm,  and  sunny,  there  came  a man 
out  of  the  wood  hard  by  the  Mote-stead  aforesaid,  who  sat 
him  down  at  the  roots  of  the  Speech-mound,  casting  down  before 
him  a roe-buck  which  he  had  just  slain  in  the  wood.  He  was  a 
young  man  of  three  and  twenty  summers ; he  was  so  clad  that  he 
had  on  him  a sheep-brown  kirtle  and  leggings  of  like  stuff  bound 
about  with  white  leather  thongs;  he  bore  a short-sword  in  his 
girdle  and  a little  axe  withal;  the  sword  with  fair  wrought  gilded 
hilts  and  a dew-shoe  of  like  fashion  to  its  sheath.  He  had  his 
quiver  at  his  back  and  bare  in  his  hand  his  bow  unstrung.  He 
was  tall  and  strong,  very  fair  of  fashion  both  of  limbs  and  face, 
white-skinned,  but  for  the  sun’s  tanning,  and  ruddy-cheeked : his 
beard  was  little  and  fine,  his  hair  yellow  and  curling,  cut  some- 
what close,  but  for  its  length  so  plenteous,  and  so  thick,  that  none 
could  fail  to  note  it.  He  had  no  hat  nor  hood  upon  his  head, 
nought  but  a fillet  of  golden  beads. 

As  he  sat  down  he  glanced  at  the  dale  below  him  with  a well- 
pleased  look,  and  then  cast  his  eyes  down  to  the  grass  at  his  feet, 
as  though  to  hold  a little  longer  all  unchanged  the  image  of  the 
fair  place  he  had  just  seen.  The  sun  was  low  in  the  heavens,  and 
his  slant  beams  fell  yellow  all  up  the  dale,  gilding  the  chestnut 
groves  grown  dusk  and  grey  with  autumn,  and  the  black  masses 
of  the  elm-boughs,  and  gleaming  back  here  and  there  from  the 
pools  of  the  Weltering  Water.  Down  in  the  midmost  meadows 
the  long-horned  dun  kine  were  moving  slowly  as  they  fed  along 
the  edges  of  the  stream,  and  a dog  was  bounding  about  with 
exceeding  swiftness  here  and  there  among  them.  At  a sharply 
curved  bight  of  the  river  the  man  could  see  a little  vermilion  flame 
flickering  about,  and  above  it  a thin  blue  veil  of  smoke  hanging 
in  the  air,  and  clinging  to  the  boughs  of  the  willows  anear;  about 
it  were  a dozen  menfolk  clear  to  see,  some  sitting,  some  standing, 

12 


some  walking  to  and  fro,  but  all  in  company  together : four  of  Folk  dance  at 
these  were  brown-clad  and  short-skirted  like  himself,  and  from  eventide, 
above  the  hand  of  one  came  a flash  of  light  as  the  sun  smote  upon 
the  steel  of  his  spear.  The  others  were  long-skirted  and  clad 
gayer,  and  amongst  them  were  red  and  blue  and  green  and  white 
garments,  and  they  were  clear  to  be  seen  for  women.  Just  as  the 
young  man  looked  up  again,  those  of  them  who  were  sitting  down 
rose  up,  and  those  that  were  strolling  drew  nigh,  and  they  joined 
hands  together,  and  fell  to  dancing  on  the  grass,  and  the  dog  and 
another  one  with  him  came  up  to  the  dancers  and  raced  about  and 
betwixt  them ; and  so  clear  to  see  were  they  all  and  so  little,  be- 
ing far  away,  that  they  looked  like  dainty  well-wrought  puppets. 

The  young  man  sat  smiling  at  it  for  a little,  and  then  rose  up 
and  shouldered  his  venison,  and  went  down  into  Wildlake’s  Way, 
and  presently  was  fairly  in  the  Dale  and  striding  along  the  Port- 
way beside  the  northern  cliffs,  whose  greyness  was  gilded  yet  by 
the  last  rays  of  the  sun,  though  in  a minute  or  two  it  would  go 
under  the  western  rim.  He  went  fast  and  cheerily,  murmuring 
to  himself  snatches  of  old  songs ; none  overtook  him  on  the  road, 
but  he  overtook  divers  folk  going  alone  or  in  company  toward 
Burgstead;  swains  and  old  men,  mothers  and  maidens  coming 
from  the  field  and  the  acre,  or  going  from  house  to  house ; and 
one  or  two  he  met  but  not  many.  All  these  greeted  him  kindly, 
and  he  them  again;  but  he  stayed  not  to  speak  with  any,  but  went 
as  one  in  haste. 

It  was  dusk  by  then  he  passed  under  the  gate  of  Burgstead ; 
he  went  straight  thence  to  the  door  of  the  House  of  the  Face,  and 
entered  as  one  who  is  at  home,  and  need  go  no  further,  nor  abide 
a bidding. 

The  hall  he  came  into  straight  out  of  the  open  air  was  long  and 
somewhat  narrow  and  not  right  high ; it  was  well-nigh  dark  now 
within,  but  since  he  knew  where  to  look,  he  could  see  by  the 
flicker  that  leapt  up  now  and  then  from  the  smouldering  brands 
of  the  hearth  amidmost  the  hall  under  the  luffer,  that  there  were 

13 


The  venison 
is  late. 


but  three  men  therein,  and  belike  they  were  even  they  whom  he 
looked  to  find  there,  and  for  their  part  they  looked  for  his  coming, 
and  knew  his  step. 

He  set  down  his  venison  on  the  floor,  and  cried  out  in  a cheery 
voice : ‘Ho,  Kettel!  Are  all  men  gone  without  doors  to  sleep  so 
near  the  winter-tide,  that  the  Hall  is  as  dark  as  a cave?  Hither 
to  me!  Or  art  thou  also  sleeping?’ 

A voice  came  from  the  further  side  of  the  hearth:  ‘Yea,  lord, 
asleep  I am,  and  have  been,  and  dreaming;  and  in  my  dream  I 
dealt  with  the  flesh-pots  and  the  cake-board,  and  thou  shalt  see 
my  dream  come  true  presently  to  thy  gain.’ 

Quoth  another  voice : ‘ Kettel  hath  had  out  that  share  of  his 
dream  already  belike,  if  the  saw  sayeth  sooth  about  cooks.  All 
ye  have  been  away,  so  belike  he  hath  done  as  Rafe’s  dog  when 
Rafe  ran  away  from  the  slain  buck.’ 

He  laughed  therewith,  and  Kettel  with  him,  and  a third  voice 
joined  the  laughter.  The  young  man  also  laughed  and  said : 
‘Here  I bring  the  venison  which  my  kinsman  desired;  but  as 
ye  see  I have  brought  it  over-late : but  take  it,  Kettel.  When 
cometh  my  father  from  the  stithy?’ 

Quoth  Kettel : ‘ My  lord  hath  been  hard  at  it  shaping  the 
Yule-tide  sword,  and  doth  not  lightly  leave  such  work,  as  ye 
wot,  but  he  will  be  here  presently,  for  he  has  sent  to  bid  us  dight 
for  supper  straightway.’ 

Said  the  young  man:  ‘Where  are  there  lords  in  the  dale, 
Kettel,  or  hast  thou  made  some  thyself,  that  thou  must  be  al- 
ways throwing  them  in  my  teeth?’ 

‘Son  of  the  Alderman,’  said  Kettel,  ‘ye  call  me  Kettel,  which 
is  no  name  of  mine,  so  why  should  I not  call  thee  lord,  which  is  no 
dignity  of  thine,  since  it  goes  well  over  my  tongue  from  old  use 
and  wont?  But  here  comes  my  mate  of  the  kettle,  and  the 
women  and  lads.  Sit  down  by  the  hearth  away  from  their  hurry, 
and  I will  fetch  thee  the  hand-water.’ 

The  young  man  sat  down,  and  Kettel  took  up  the  venison 

H 


and  went  his  ways  toward  the  door  at  the  lower  end  of  the  hall; 
but  ere  he  reached  it  it  opened,  and  a noisy  crowd  entered  of  men, 
women,  boys,  and  dogs,  some  bearing  great  wax  candles,  some 
bowls  and  cups  and  dishes  and  trenchers,  and  some  the  boards  for 
the  meal. 

The  young  man  sat  quiet  smiling  and  winking  his  eyes  at  the 
sudden  flood  of  light  let  into  the  dark  place  ; he  took  in  without 
looking  at  this  or  the  other  thing  the  aspect  of  his  Fathers’ 
House,  so  long  familiar  to  him  ; yet  to-night  he  had  a pleasure 
in  it  above  his  wont,  and  in  all  the  stir  of  the  household  ; for  the 
thought  of  the  wood  wherein  he  had  wandered  all  day  yet  hung 
heavy  upon  him.  Came  one  of  the  girls  and  cast  fresh  brands 
on  the  smouldering  fire  and  stirred  it  into  a blaze,  and  the  wax 
candles  were  set  up  on  the  dais,  so  that  between  them  and  the 
new-quickened  fire  every  corner  of  the  hall  was  bright.  As 
aforesaid  it  was  long  and  narrow,  over-arched  with  stone  and 
not  right  high,  the  windows  high  up  under  the  springing  of  the 
roof-arch  and  all  on  the  side  toward  the  street ; over  against 
them  were  the  arches  of  the  shut-beds  of  the  house-mates.  The 
walls  were  bare  that  evening,  but  folk  were  wont  to  hang  up 
ballings  of  woven  pictures  thereon  when  feasts  and  high-days 
were  toward ; and  all  along  the  walls  were  the  tenter-hooks  for 
that  purpose,  and  divers  weapons  and  tools  were  hanging  from 
them  here  and  there.  About  the  dais  behind  the  thwart-table 
were  now  stuck  for  adornment  leavy  boughs  of  oak  now  just 
beginning  to  turn  with  the  first  frosts.  High  up  on  the  gable 
wall  above  the  tenter-hooks  for  the  hangings  were  carven  fair 
imagery  and  knots  and  twining  stems ; for  there  in  the  hewn 
stone  was  set  forth  that  same  image  with  the  rayed  head  that 
was  on  the  outside  wall,  and  he  was  smiting  the  dragon  and 
slaying  him  ; but  here  inside  the  house  all  this  was  stained  in 
fair  and  lively  colours,  and  the  sun-like  rays  round  the  head  of 
the  image  were  of  beaten  gold.  At  the  lower  end  of  the  hall 
were  two  doors  going  into  the  butteries,  and  kitchen,  and  other 

15 


The  Hall  of 
the  House  oi 
the  Face. 


The  Aider- 
man  cometh 
in. 


out-bowers  ; and  above  these  doors  was  a loft  upborne  by  stone 
pillars,  which  loft  was  the  sleeping  chamber  of  the  goodman  of 
the  house  ; but  the  outward  door  was  halfway  between  the  said 
loft  and  the  hearth  of  the  hall. 

So  the  young  man  took  the  shoes  from  his  feet  and  then  sat 
watching  the  wom.en  and  lads  arraying  the  boards,  till  Kettel 
came  again  to  him  with  an  old  woman  bearing  the  ewer  and 
basin,  who  washed  his  feet  and  poured  the  water  over  his  hands, 
and  gave  him  the  towel  with  fair-broidered  ends  to  dry  them  withal . 

Scarce  had  he  made  an  end  of  this  ere  through  the  outer  door 
came  in  three  men  and  a young  woman  with  them  ; the  fore- 
most of  these  was  a man  younger  by  some  two  years  than  the 
first-comer,  but  so  like  him  that  none  might  misdoubt  that  he  was 
his  brother  ; the  next  was  an  old  man  with  a long  white  beard, 
but  hale  and  upright ; and  lastly  came  a man  of  middle-age,  who 
led  the  young  woman  by  the  hand.  He  was  taller  than  the  first 
of  the  young  men,  though  the  other  who  entered  with  him  out- 
went him  in  height ; a stark  carle  he  was,  broad  across  the 
shoulders,  thin  in  the  flank,  long-armed  and  big-handed ; very 
noble  and  well-fashioned  of  countenance,  with  a straight  nose 
and  grey  eyes  underneath  a broad  brow  : his  hair  grown  some- 
what scanty  was  done  about  with  a fillet  of  golden  beads  like  the 
young  men  his  sons.  For  indeed  this  was  their  father,  and  the 
master  of  the  House. 

His  name  was  Iron-face,  for  he  was  the  deftest  of  weapon- 
smiths,  and  he  was  the  Alderman  of  the  Dalesmen,  and  well- 
beloved  of  them  ; his  kindred  was  deemed  the  noblest  of  the 
Dale,  and  long  had  the}^  dwelt  in  the  House  of  the  Face.  But 
of  his  sons  the  youngest,  the  new-comer,  was  named  Hall-face, 
and  his  brother  the  elder  Face-of-god;  which  name  was  of  old 
use  amongst  the  kindred,  and  many  great  men  and  stout  warriors 
had  borne  it  aforetime  : and  this  young  man,  in  great  love  had 
he  been  gotten,  and  in  much  hope  had  he  been  reared,  and 
therefore  had  he  been  named  after  the  best  of  the  kindred.  But 

i6 


his  mother,  who  was  hight  the  Jewel,  and  had  been  a very  fair  The 
woman,  was  dead  now,  and  Iron-face  lacked  a wife.  told  of. 

Face-of-god  was  well-beloved  of  his  kindred  and  of  all  the 
Folk  of  the  Dale,  and  he  had  gotten  a to-name,  and  was  called 
Gold-mane  because  of  the  abundance  and  fairness  of  his  hair.  j 

As  for  the  young  woman  that  was  led  in  by  Iron-face,  she 
was  the  betrothed  of  Face-of-god,  and  her  name  was  the  Bride. 

She  looked  with  such  eyes  of  love  on  him  when  she  saw  him  in 
the  hall,  as  though  she  had  never  seen  him  before  but  once,  nor 
loved  him  but  since  yesterday;  though  in  truth  they  had  grown  up 
together  and  had  seen  each  other  most  days  of  the  year  for  many 
years.  She  was  of  the  kindred  with  whom  the  chiefs  and  great 
men  of  the  Face  mostly  wedded,  which  was  indeed  far  away 
kindred  of  them.  She  was  a fair  woman  and  strong  : not  easily 
daunted  amidst  perils  : she  was  hardy  and  handy  and  light-foot : 
she  could  swim  as  well  as  any,  and  could  shoot  well  in  the  bow, 
and  wield  sword  and  spear  : yet  was  she  kind  and  compassionate, 
and  of  great  courtesy,  and  the  very  dogs  and  kine  trusted  in  her 
and  loved  her.  Her  hair  was  dark  red  of  hue,  long  and  fine 
and  plenteous,  her  eyes  great  and  brown,  her  brow  broad  and 
very  fair,  her  lips  fine  and  red  : her  cheek  not  ruddy,  yet  nowise 
sallow,  but  clear  and  bright : tall  she  was  and  of  excellent 
fashion,  but  well-knit  and  well-measured  rather  than  slender  and 
wavering  as  the  willow-bough.  Her  voice  was  sweet  and  soft, 
her  words  few,  but  exceeding  dear  to  the  listener.  In  short,  she 
was  a woman  born  to  be  the  ransom  of  her  Folk. 

Now  as  to  the  names  which  the  menfolk  of  the  Face  bore,  and 
they  an  ancient  kindred,  a kindred  of  chieftains,  it  has  been  said 
that  in  times  past  their  image  of  the  God  of  the  Earth  had 
over  his  treen  face  a mask  of  beaten  gold  fashioned  to  the  shape 
of  the  image  ; and  that  when  the  Alderman  of  the  Folk  died, 
he  to  wit  who  served  the  God  and  bore  on  his  arm  the  gold-ring 
between  the  people  and  the  altar,  this  visor  or  face  of  God  was 
laid  over  the  face  of  him  who  had  been  in  a manner  his  priest, 

17  D 


OfStone-face.  and  therewith  he  was  borne  to  mound ; and  the  new  Alderman 
and  priest  had  it  in  charge  to  fashion  a new  visor  for  the  God ; 
and  whereas  for  long  this  great  kindred  had  been  chieftains  of  the 
people,  they  had  been,  and  were  all  so  named,  that  the  word 
Face  was  ever  a part  of  their  names. 


CHAPTER  III.  THEY  TALK  OF  DIVERS  MATTERS  IN 
THE  HALL. 

NOW  Face-of-god,  who  is  also  called  Gold-mane,  rose  up 
to  meet  the  new-comers,  and  each  of  them  greeted  him 
kindly,  and  the  Bride  kissed  him  on  the  cheek,  and  he 
her  in  like  wise;  and  he  looked  kindly  on  her,  and  took  her  hand, 
and  went  on  up  the  hall  to  the  dais,  following  his  father  and  the 
old  man ; as  for  him,  he  was  of  the  kindred  of  the  House,  and 
was  foster-father  of  Iron-face  and  of  his  sons  both ; and  his  name 
was  Stone-face : a stark  warrior  had  he  been  when  he  was  young, 
and  even  now  he  could  do  a man’s  work  in  the  battlefield,  and  his 
understanding  was  as  good  as  that  of  a man  in  his  prime.  So 
went  these  and  four  others  up  on  to  the  dais  and  sat  down  before 
the  thwart-table  looking  down  the  hall,  for  the  meat  was  now  on 
the  board ; and  of  the  others  there  were  some  fifty  men  and  women 
who  were  deemed  to  be  of  the  kindred  and  sat  at  the  endlong 
tables. 

So  then  the  Alderman  stood  up  and  made  the  sign  of  the 
Hammer  over  the  meat,  the  token  of  his  craft  and  of  his  God. 
Then  they  fell  to  with  good  hearts,  for  there  was  enough  and  to 
spare  of  meat  and  drink.  There  was  bread  and  flesh  (though 
not  Gold-mane’s  venison),  and  leeks  and  roasted  chestnuts  of  the 
grove,  and  red-cheeked  apples  of  the  garth,  and  honey  enough  of 
that  year’s  gathering,  and  medlars  sharp  and  mellow : moreover, 
good  wine  of  the  western  bents  went  up  and  down  the  hall  in 
great  gilded  copper  bowls  and  in  mazers  girt  and  lipped  with  gold. 

i8 


But  when  they  were  full  of  meat,  and  had  drunken  somewhat,  Face-of-god 
they  fell  to  speech,  and  Iron-face  spake  aloud  to  his  son,  who  had  tells  of  his 
but  been  speaking  softly  to  the  Bride  as  one  playmate  to  the 
other  : but  the  Alderman  said  : ‘ Scarce  are  the  wood-deer 

grown,  kinsman,  when  I must  needs  eat  sheep’s  flesh  on  a Thurs- 
day, though  my  son  has  lain  abroad  in  the  woods  all  night  to 
hunt  for  me.’ 

And  therewith  he  smiled  in  the  young  man’s  face;  but  Gold- 
mane  reddened  and  said  : ^ So  is  it,  kinsman,  I can  hit  what  I 

can  see ; but  not  what  is  hidden.’ 

Iron-face  laughed  and  said : ‘ Hast  thou  been  to  the  Woodland- 
Carles  ? are  their  women  fairer  than  our  cousins  ? ’ 

Face-of-god  took  up  the  Bride’s  hand  in  his  and  kissed  it  and 
• laid  it  to  his  cheek ; and  then  turned  to  his  father  and  said  : 

^Nay,  father,  I saw  not  the  Wood-carles,  nor  went  to  their  abode; 
and  on  no  day  do  I lust  after  their  women.  Moreover,  I brought 
home  a roebuck  of  the  fattest ; but  I Vv/’as  over-late  for  Kettel,  and 
the  flesh  was  ready  for  the  board  by  then  I came.’ 

‘Well,  son,’  quoth  Iron-face,  for  he  was  merry,  ‘a  roebuck  is 
but  a little  deer  for  such  big  men  as  are  thou  and  I.  But  I rede 
thee  take  the  Bride  along  with  thee  the  next  time ; and  she  shall 
seek  whilest  thou  sleepest,  and  hit  when  thou  missest.’ 

Then  F ace-of-god  smiled,  but  he  frowned  somewhat  also,  and  he 
said:  ‘Well  were  that,  indeed!  But  if  ye  must  needs  drag  a true 
tale  out  of  me  : that  roebuck  I shot  at  the  very  edge  of  the  wood 
nigh  to  the  Mote-stead  as  I was  coming  home : harts  had  I seen 
in  the  wood  and  its  lawns,  and  boars,  and  bucks,  and  loosed  not 
at  them : for  indeed  when  I awoke  in  the  morning  in  that  wood- 
lawn  ye  wot  of,  I wandered  up  and  down  with  my  bow  unbent. 

So  it  was  that  I fared  as  if  I were  seeking  something,  I know  not 
what,  that  should  fill  up  something  lacking  to  me,  I know  not 
what.  Thus  I felt  in  myself  even  so  long  as  I was  underneath 
the  black  boughs,  and  there  was  none  beside  me  and  before  me, 
and  none  to  turn  aback  to : but  when  I came  out  again  into  the 

19 


The  offer  of 
Iron-face  to 
his  son. 


sunshine,  and  I saw  the  fair  dale,  and  the  happy  abode  lying 
before  me,  and  folk  abroad  in  the  meads  merry  in  the  eventide; 
then  was  I full  fain  of  it,  and  loathed  the  wood  as  an  empty  thing 
that  had  nought  to  give  me ; and  lo  you ! all  that  I had  been 
longing  for  in  the  wood,  was  it  not  in  this  House  and  ready  to 
my  hand  ? — and  that  is  good  meseemeth.’ 

Therewith  he  drank  of  the  cup  which  the  Bride  put  into  his 
hand  after  she  had  kissed  the  rim,  but  when  he  had  set  it  down 
again  he  spake  once  more  : 

‘ And  yet  now  I am  sitting  honoured  and  well-beloved  in  the 
House  of  my  Fathers,  with  the  holy  hearth  sparkling  and  gleam- 
ing down  there  before  me ; and  she  that  shall  bear  my  children 
sitting  soft  and  kind  by  my  side,  and  the  bold  lads  I shall  one 
day  lead  in  battle  drinking  out  of  my  very  cup : now  it  seems  to 
me  that  amidst  all  this,  the  dark  cold  wood,  wherein  abide  but 
the  beasts  and  the  Foes  of  the  Gods,  is  bidding  me  to  it  and  draw- 
ing me  thither.  Narrow  is  the  Dale  and  the  World  is  wide  ; I 
would  it  were  dawn  and  daylight,  that  I might  be  afoot  again. 

And  he  half  rose  up  from  his  place.  But  his  father  bent  his 
brow  on  him  and  said  : ‘ Kinsman,  thou  hast  a long  tongue  for 
a half-trained  whelp  : nor  see  I whitherward  thy  mind  is  wan- 
dering, but  if  it  be  on  the  road  of  a lad’s  desire  to  go  further  and 
fare  worse.  Hearken  then,  I will  offer  thee  somewhat ! Soon 
shall  the  West-country  merchants  be  here  with  their  winter  truck. 
How  sayest  thou?  hast  thou  a mind  to  fare  back  with  them,  and 
look  on  the  Plain  and  its  Cities,  and  take  and  give  with  the 
strangers?  To  whom  indeed  thou  shalt  be  nothing  save  a purse 
with  a few  lumps  of  gold  in  it,  or  maybe  a spear  in  the  stranger’s 
band  on  the  stricken  field,  or  a bow  on  the  wall  of  an  alien  city. 
This  is  a craft  which  thou  mayst  well  learn,  since  thou  shalt  be 
a chieftain ; a craft  good  to  learn,  however  grievous  it  be  in  the 
learning.  And  I myself  have  been  there ; for  in  my  youth  I de- 
sired sore  to  look  on  the  world  beyond  the  mountains;  so  I went,, 
and  I filled  my  belly  with  the  fruit  of  my  own  desires,  and  a bitter 

20 


meat  was  that ; but  now  that  it  has  passed  through  me,  and  I Face-of-god 
yet  alive,  belike  I am  more  of  a grown  man  for  having  endured  not  go  to 

its  gripe.  Even  so  may  it  well  be  with  thee,  son ; so  go  if  thou  Plain, 

wilt ; and  thou  shalt  go  with  my  blessing,  and  with  gold  and 
wares  and  wain  and  spearmen.’ 

‘Nay,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘I  thank  thee,  for  it  is  well  offered; 
but  I will  not  go,  for  I have  no  lust  for  the  Plain  and  its  Cities; 

I love  the  Dale  well,  and  all  that  is  round  about  it ; therein  will 
I live  and  die.’ 

Therewith  he  fell  a-musing ; and  the  Bride  looked  at  him 
anxiously,  but  spake  not.  Sooth  to  say  her  heart  was  sinking, 
as  though  she  foreboded  some  new  thing,  which  should  thrust  it- 
self into  their  merry  life. 

But  the  old  man  Stone-face  took  up  the  word  and  said : 

‘ Son  Gold-mane,  it  behoveth  me  to  speak,  since  belike  I know 
the  wild-wood  better  than  most,  and  have  done  for  these  three- 
score and  ten  years ; to  my  cost.  Now  I perceive  that  thou 
longest  for  the  wood  and  the  innermost  of  it ; and  wot  ye  what  ? 

This  longing  will  at  whiles  entangle  the  sons  of  our  chieftains, 
though  this  Alderman  that  now  is  hath  been  free  therefrom,  which 
is  well  for  him.  For,  time  was  this  longing  came  over  me,  and 
I went  whither  it  led  me : overlong  it  were  to  tell  of  all  that  be- 
fell me  because  of  it,  and  how  my  heart  bled  thereby.  So  sorry 
were  the  tidings  that  came  of  it,  that  now  meseemeth  my  heart 
should  be  of  stone  and  not  my  face,  had  it  not  been  for  the  love 
wherewith  I have  loved  the  sons  of  the  kindred.  Therefore,  son, 
it  were  not  ill  if  ye  went  west  away  with  the  merchants  this  win- 
ter, and  learned  the  dealings  of  the  cities,  and  brought  us  back 
tales  thereof’ 

But  Gold-mane  cried  out  somewhat  angrily,  ‘ I tell  thee,  foster- 
father,  that  I have  no  mind  for  the  cities  and  their  men  and  their 
fools  and  their  whores  and  their  runagates.  But  as  for  the  wood 
and  its  wonders,  I have  done  with  it,  save  for  hunting  there  along 
with  others  of  the  Folk.  So  let  thy  mind  be  at  ease ; and  for 

21 


The  marvels 
and  perils  of 
the  wood. 


the  rest,  I will  do  what  the  Alderman  commandeth,  and  whatso 
my  father  craveth  of  me/ 

^ And  that  is  well,  son,’  said  Stone-face,  Mf  what  ye  say 
come  to  pass,  as  sore  I misdoubt  me  it  will  not.  But  well  it 
were,  well  it  were  ! For  such  things  are  in  the  wood,  yea  and 
before  ye  come  to  its  innermost,  as  may  well  try  the  stoutest 
heart.  Therein  are  Kobbolds,  and  Wights  that  love  not  men, 
things  unto  whom  the  grief  of  men  is  as  the  sound  of  the  fiddle- 
bow  unto  us.  And  there  abide  the  ghosts  of  those  that  may  not 
rest ; and  there  wander  the  dwarfs  and  the  mountain-dwellers, 
the  dealers  in  marvels,  the  givers  of  gifts  that  destroy  Houses  ; 
the  forgers  of  the  curse  that  clingeth  and  the  murder  that  flitteth 
to  and  fro.  There  moreover  are  the  lairs  of  Wights  in  the 
shapes  of  women,  that  draw  a young  man’s  heart  out  of  his  bod}^, 
and  fill  up  the  empty  place  with  desire  never  to  be  satisfied,  that 
they  may  mock  him  therewith  and  waste  his  manhood  and 
destroy  him.  Nor  say  I much  of  the  strong-thieves  that  dwell 
there,  since  thou  art  a valiant  sword  ; or  of  them  who  have  been 
made  Wolves  of  the  Holy  Places  ; or  of  the  Murder-Carles,  the 
remnants  and  off-scourings  of  wicked  and  wretched  Folks — men 
who  think  as  much  of  the  life  of  a man  as  of  the  life  of  a fly. 
Yet  happiest  is  the  man  whom  they  shall  tear  in  pieces,  than 
he  who  shall  live  burdened  by  the  curse  of  the  Foes  of  the  Gods.’ 

The  house-master  looked  on  his  son  as  the  old  carle  spake, 
and  a cloud  gathered  on  his  face  a while ; and  when  Stone-face 
had  made  an  end  he  spake  : 

‘ This  is  long  and  evil  talk  for  the  end  of  a merry  day,  O 
fosterer ! Wilt  thou  not  drink  a draught,  O Redesman,  and 
then  stand  up  and  set  thy  fiddle-bow  a-dancing,  and  cause  it 
draw  some  fair  words  after  it  ? For  my  cousin’s  face  hath  grown 
sadder  than  a young  maid’s  should  be,  and  my  son’s  eyes  gleam 
with  thoughts  that  are  far  away  from  us  and  abroad  in  the  wild- 
wood  seeking  marvels.’ 

Then  arose  a man  of  middle-age  from  the  top  of  the  endlong 

22 


bench  on  the  east  side  of  the  hall : a man  tall,  thin  and  scant- 
haired, with  a nose  like  an  eagle's  neb  : he  reached  out  his  hand 
for  the  bowl,  and  when  they  had  given  to  him  he  handled  it,  and 
raised  it  aloft  and  cried  ; 

‘ Here  I drink  a double  health  to  Face-of-god  and  the  Bride, 
and  the  love  that  lieth  between  them,  and  the  love  betwixt  them 
twain  and  us/ 

He  drank  therewith,  and  the  wine  went  up  and  down  the 
hall,  and  all  men  drank,  both  carles  and  queens,  with  shouting 
and  great  joy.  Then  Redesman  put  down  the  cup  (for  it  had 
come  into  his  hands  again),  and  reached  his  hand  to  the  wall 
behind  him,  and  took  down  his  fiddle  hanging  there  in  its  case, 
and  drew  it  out  and  fell  to  tuning  it,  while  the  hall  grew  silent 
to  hearken  : then  he  handled  the  bow  and  laid  it  on  the  strings 
till  they  wailed  and  chuckled  sweetly,  and  when  the  song  was  well 
awake  and  stirring  briskly,  then  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and  sang  ; 

The  Minstrel  saith : 

‘ O why  on  this  morning,  ye  maids,  are  ye  tripping 
Aloof  from  the  meadows  yet  fresh  with  the  dew. 

Where  under  the  west  wind  the  river  is  lipping 

The  fragrance  of  mint,  the  white  blooms  and  the  blue  ? 

For  rough  is  the  Portway  where  panting  ye  wander; 

On  your  feet  and  your  gown-hems  the  dust  lieth  dun ; 

Come  trip  through  the  grass  and  the  meadow-sweet  yonder. 
And  forget  neath  the  willows  the  sword  of  the  sun. 

The  Maidens  answer : 

Though  fair  are  the  moon-daisies  down  by  the  river. 

And  soft  is  the  grass  and  the  white  clover  sweet ; 

Though  twixt  us  and  the  rock-wall  the  hot  glare  doth  quiver. 
And  the  dust  of  the  wheel-way  is  dun  on  our  feet ; 

Yet  here  on  the  way  shall  we  walk  on  this  morning 

Though  the  sun  burneth  here,  and  sweet,  cool  is  the  mead ; 

23 


Redesman  the 

Minstrel 

singeth. 


The  Maiden 
Ward. 


For  here  when  in  old  days  the  Burg  gave  its  warning, 

Stood  stark  under  weapons  the  doughty  of  deed. 

Here  came  on  the  aliens  their  proud  words  a-crying, 

And  here  on  our  threshold  they  stumbled  and  fell ; 

Flere  silent  at  even  the  steel-clad  were  lying, 

And  here  were  our  mothers  the  story  to  tell. 

Here  then  on  the  morn  of  the  eve  of  the  wedding 
We  pray  to  the  Mighty  that  we  too  may  bear 
Such  war-walls  for  warding  of  orchard  and  steading, 

That  the  new  days  be  merry  as  old  days  were  dear.’ 

Therewith  he  made  an  end,  and  shouts  and  glad  cries  arose 
all  about  the  hall ; and  an  old  man  arose  and  cried  : ‘ A cup  to  the 
memory  of  the  Might}?^  of  the  Day  of  the  Warding  of  the  Ways.’ 
For  you  must  know  this  song  told  of  a custom  of  the  Folk,  held 
in  memory  of  a time  of  bygone  battle,  wherein  they  had  over- 
thrown a great  host  of  aliens  on  the  Portway  betwixt  the  river 
and  the  cliffs,  two  furlongs  from  the  gate  of  Burgstead.  So 
now  two  weeks  before  Midsummer  those  maidens  who  were 
presently  to  be  wedded  went  early  in  the  morning  to  that  place 
clad  in  very  fair  raiment,  swords  girt  to  their  sides  and  spears  in 
their  hands,  and  abode  there  on  the  highway  from  morn  till  even 
as  though  they  were  a guard  to  it.  And  they  made  merry  there, 
singing  songs  and  telling  tales  of  times  past : and  at  the  sun- 
setting their  grooms  came  to  fetch  them  away  to  the  Feast  of  the 
Eve  of  the  W edding. 

While  the  song  was  a-singing  Face-of-god  took  the  Bride’s 
hand  in  his  and  caressed  it,  and  was  soft  and  blithe  with  her  ; 
and  she  reddened  and  trembled  for  pleasure,  and  called  to  mind 
wedding  feasts  that  had  been,  and  fair  brides  that  she  had  seen 
thereat,  and  she  forgot  her  fears  and  her  heart  was  at  peace  again. 

And  Iron-face  looked  well-pleased  on  the  two  from  time  to 
time,  and  smiled,  but  forbore  words  to  them. 

But  up  and  down  the  hall  men  talked  with  one  another  about 

24. 


things  long  ago  betid  : for  their  hearts  were  high  and  they  desired 
deeds ; but  in  that  fair  Dale  so  happy  were  the  years  from  day 
to  day  that  there  was  but  little  to  tell  of.  So  deepened  the  night 
and  waned,  and  Gold-mane  and  the  Bride  still  talked  sweetly 
together,  and  at  whiles  kindly  to  the  others  ; and  by  seeming  he 
had  clean  forgotten  the  wood  and  its  wonders. 

Then  at  last  the  Alderman  called  for  the  cup  of  good-night, 
and  men  drank  thereof  and  went  their  ways  to  bed. 


CHAPTER  IV.  FACE-OF-GOD  FARETH  TO  THE  WOOD 
AGAIN. 

WHEN  it  was  the  earliest  morning  and  dawn  was  but  just 
beginning,  Face-of-god  awoke  and  rose  up  from  his 
bed,  and  came  forth  into  the  hall  naked  in  his  shirt,  and 
stood  by  the  hearth,  wherein  the  piled-up  embers  were  yet  red, 
and  looked  about  and  could  see  nothing  stirring  in  the  dimness : 
then  he  fetched  water  and  washed  the  night-tide  off  him,  and  clad 
himself  in  haste,  and  was  even  as  he  was  yesterday,  save  that  he 
left  his  bow  and  quiver  in  their  place  and  took  instead  a short 
casting-spear;  moreover  he  took  a leathern  scrip  and  went  there- 
with to  the  buttery,  and  set  therein  bread  and  flesh  and  a little 
gilded  beaker ; and  all  this  he  did  with  but  little  noise  ; for  he 
would  not  be  questioned,  lest  he  should  have  to  answer  himself 
as  well  as  others. 

Thus  he  went  quietly  out  of  doors,  for  the  door  was  but  latched, 
since  no  bolts  or  bars  or  locks  were  used  in  Burgstead,  and  through 
the  town-gate,  which  stood  open,  save  when  rumours  of  war  were 
about.  He  turned  his  face  straight  towards  Wildlake’s  Way, 
walking  briskly,  but  at  whiles  looking  back  over  his  shoulder 
toward  the  East  to  note  what  way  was  made  by  the  dawning, 
and  how  the  sky  lightened  above  the  mountain  passes. 

25 


Face-of-god 
in  the  morn- 
ing. 


E 


Face-of-god 
thinketh  of 
the  Bride. 


By  then  he  was  come  to  the  place  where  the  Maiden  Ward 
was  held  in  the  summer  the  dawn  was  so  far  forward  that  all 
things  had  their  due  colours,  and  were  clear  to  see  in  the  shadow- 
less day.  It  was  a bright  morning,  with  an  easterly  air  stirring 
that  drave  away  the  haze  and  dried  the  meadows,  which  had 
otherwise  been  rimy ; for  it  was  cold.  Gold-mane  lingered  on 
the  place  a little,  and  his  eyes  fell  on  the  road,  as  dusty  yet  as  in 
Redesman’s  song;  for  the  autumn  had  been  very  dry,  and  the 
strip  of  green  that  edged  the  outside  of  the  way  was  worn  and 
dusty  also.  On  the  edge  of  it,  half  in  the  dusty  road,  half  on 
the  worn  grass,  was  a long  twine  of  briony  red-berried  and  black- 
leaved ; and  right  in  the  midst  of  the  road  were  two  twigs  of 
great-leaved  sturdy  pollard  oak,  as  though  they  had  been  thrown 
aside  there  yesterday  by  women  or  children  a-sporting;  and  the 
deep  white  dust  yet  held  the  marks  of  feet,  some  bare,  some  shod, 
crossing  each  other  here  and  there.  Face-of-god  smiled  as  he 
passed  on,  as  a man  with  a happy  thought ; for  his  mind  showed 
him  a picture  of  the  Bride  as  she  would  be  leading  the  Maiden 
Ward  next  summer,  and  singing  first  among  the  singers,  and  he 
saw  her  as  clearly  as  he  had  often  seen  her  verily,  and  before  him 
was  the  fashion  of  her  hands  and  all  her  body,  and  the  little 
mark  on  her  right  wrist,  and  the  place  where  her  arm  whitened, 
because  the  sleeve  guarded  it  against  the  sun,  which  had  long 
been  pleasant  unto  him,  and  the  little  hollow  in  her  chin,  and 
the  lock  of  red-brown  hair  waving  in  the  wind  above  her  brow, 
and  shining  in  the  sun  as  brightly  as  the  Alderman’s  cunningest 
work  of  golden  wire.  Soft  and  sweet  seemed  that  picture,  till 
he  almost  seemed  to  hear  her  sweet  voice  calling  to  him,  and  de- 
sire of  her  so  took  hold  of  the  youth,  that  it  stirred  him  up  to  go 
swiftlier  as  he  strode  on,  the  day  brightening  behind  him. 

Now  was  it  nigh  sunrise,  and  he  began  to  meet  folk  on  the 
way,  though  not  many;  since  for  most  their  way  lay  afield,  and 
not  towards  the  Burg.  The  first  was  a Woodlander,  tall  and 
gaunt,  striding  beside  his  ass,  whose  panniers  were  laden  with 

26 


charcoal.  The  carle’s  daughter,  a little  maiden  of  seven  winters, 
was  riding  on  the  ass’s  back  betwixt  the  panniers,  and  prattling 
to  herself  in  the  cold  morning  ; for  she  was  pleased  with  the  clear 
light  in  the  east,  and  the  smooth  wide  turf  of  the  meadows,  as 
one  who  had  not  often  been  far  from  the  shadow  of  the  heavy 
trees  of  the  wood,  and  their  dark  wall  round  about  the  clearing 
where  they  dwelt.  Face-of-god  gave  the  twain  the  sele  of  the 
day  in  merry  fashion  as  he  passed  them  by,  and  the  sober  dark- 
faced man  nodded  to  him  but  spake  no  word,  and  the  child  stayed 
her  prattle  to  watch  him  as  he  went  by. 

Then  came  the  sound  of  the  rattle  of  wheels,  and,  as  he  doubled 
an  angle  of  the  rock-wall,  he  came  upon  a wain  drawn  by  four 
dun  kine,  wherein  lay  a young  woman  all  muffled  up  against  the 
cold  with  furs  and  cloths ; beside  the  yoke-beasts  went  her  man, 
a well-knit  trim-faced  Dalesman  clad  bravely  in  holiday  raiment, 
girt  with  a goodly  sword,  bearing  a bright  steel  helm  on  his  head, 
in  his  hand  a long  spear  with  a gay  red  and  white  shaft  done 
about  with  copper  bands.  He  looked  merry  and  proud  of  his 
wain-load,  and  the  woman  was  smiling  kindly  on  him  from  out 
of  her  scarlet  and  fur  ; but  now  she  turned  a weary  happy  face 
on  Gold-mane,  for  they  knew  him,  as  did  all  men  of  the  Dale. 

So  he  stopped  when  they  met,  for  the  goodman  had  already 
stayed  his  slow  beasts,  and  the  goodwife  had  risen  a little  on  her 
cushions  to  greet  him,  yet  slowly  and  but  a little,  for  she  was 
great  with  child,  and  not  far  from  her  time.  That  knew  Gold- 
mane  well,  and  what  was  toward,  and  why  the  goodman  wore  his 
fine  clothes,  and  why  the  wain  was  decked  with  oak-boughs  and 
the  yoke-beasts  with  their  best  gilded  bells  and  copper-adorned 
harness.  For  it  was  a custom  with  many  of  the  kindreds  that 
the  goodwife  should  fare  to  her  father’s  house  to  lie  in  with  her 
first  babe,  and  the  day  of  her  coming  home  was  made  a great  feast 
in  the  house.  So  then  Face-of-god  cried  out : * Hail  to  thee,  O 
Warcliff ! Shrewd  is  the  wind  this  morning,  and  thou  dost  well 
to  heed  it  carefully,  this  thine  orchard,  this  thy  garden,  this  thy 

27 


Face-of-god 

maketh 

neighbours. 


Face-of-god  fair  apple-tree  ! To  a good  hall  thou  wendest,  and  the  Wine  of 
cannot  tell  of  Increase  shall  be  sweet  there  this  even/ 

his  road.  Then  smiled  WarclifF  all  across  his  face,  and  the  goodwife  hung 

her  head  and  reddened.  Said  the  goodman : ‘Wilt  thou  not  be 
with  us,  son  of  the  Alderman,  as  surely  thy  father  shall  be?’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ though  I were  fain  of  it : my  own 
matters  carry  me  away.’ 

‘ What  matters  ? ’ said  WarclifF ; ‘ perchance  thou  art  for  the 
cities  this  autumn  ? ’ 

Face-of-god  answered  somewhat  stiffly : ‘ Nay,  I am  not ; ’ 
and  then  more  kindly,  and  smiling,  ‘ All  roads  lead  not  down 
to  the  Plain,  friend.’ 

‘What  road  then  farest  thou  away  from  us?  ’ said  the  goodwife. 

‘ The  way  of  my  will,’  he  answered. 

‘ And  what  way  is  that  ? ’ said  she  ; ‘ take  heed,  lest  I get  a 
longing  to  know.  For  then  must  thou  needs  tell  me,  or  deal 
with  the  carle  there  beside  thee.’ 

‘Nay,  goodwife,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘let  not  that  longing  take 
thee ; for  on  that  matter  I am  even  as  wise  as  thou.  Now  good 
speed  to  thee  and  to  the  new-comer  ! ’ 

Therewith  he  went  close  up  to  the  wain,  and  reached  out  his 
hand  to  her,  and  she  gave  him  hers  and  he  kissed  it,  and  so  went 
his  ways  smiling  kindly  on  them.  Then  the  carle  cried  to  his  kine, 
and  they  bent  down  their  heads  to  the  yoke  ; and  presently,  as  he 
walked  on,  he  heard  the  rumble  of  the  wain  mingling  with  the 
tinkling  of  their  bells,  which  in  a little  while  became  measured 
and  musical,  and  sounded  above  the  creaking  of  the  axles  and 
the  rattle  of  the  gear  and  the  roll  of  the  great  wheels  over  the 
road : and  so  it  grew  thinner  and  thinner  till  it  all  died  away 
behind  him. 

He  was  now  come  to  where  the  river  turned  away  from  the 
sheer  rock-wall,  which  was  not  so  high  there  as  in  most  other 
places,  as  there  had  been  in  old  time  long  screes  from  the  clifF, 
W’hich  had  now  grown  together,  with  the  waxing  of  herbs  and  the 

28 


washing  down  of  the  earth  on  to  them,  and  made  a steady  slope 
or  low  hill  going  down  riverward.  Over  this  the  road  lifted  itself 
above  the  level  of  the  meadows,  keeping  a little  way  from  the 
cliffs,  while  on  the  other  side  its  bank  was  somewhat  broken  and 
steep  here  and  there.  As  Face-of-god  came  up  to  one  of  these 
broken  places,  the  sun  rose  over  the  eastern  pass,  and  the  meadows 
grew  golden  with  its  long  beams.  He  lingered,  and  looked  back 
under  his  hand,  and  as  he  did  so  heard  the  voices  and  laughter 
of  women  coming  up  from  the  slope  below  him,  and  presently  a 
young  woman  came  struggling  up  the  broken  bank  with  hand 
and  knee,  and  cast  herself  down  on  the  roadside  turf  laughing 
and  panting.  She  was  a long-limbed  light-made  woman,  dark- 
faced and  black-haired  : amidst  her  laughter  she  looked  up  and 
saw  Gold-mane,  who  had  stopped  at  once  when  he  saw  her ; she 
held  out  her  hands  to  him,  and  said  lightly,  though  her  face 
flushed  withal : 

‘ Come  hither,  thou,  and  help  the  others  to  climb  the  bank ; 
for  they  are  beaten  in  the  race,  and  now  must  they  do  after  my 
will ; that  was  the  forfeit.’ 

He  went  up  to  her,  and  took  her  hands  and  kissed  them,  as 
was  the  custom  of  the  Dale,  and  said  : 

‘Hail  to  thee.  Long-coat!  who  be  they,  and  whither  away  this 
morning  early  ? ’ 

She  looked  hard  at  him,  and  fondly  belike,  as  she  answered 
slowly  : ‘ They  be  the  two  maidens  of  my  father’s  house,  whom 
thou  knowest ; and  our  errand,  all  three  of  us,  is  to  Burgstead, 
to  the  Feast  of  the  Wine  of  Increase  which  shall  be  drunk  this 
even.’ 

As  she  spake  came  another  woman  half  up  the  bank,  to  whom 
went  Face-of-god,  and,  taking  her  hands,  drew  her  up  while  she 
laughed  merrily  in  his  face : he  saluted  her  as  he  had  Long- 
coat,  and  then  with  a laugh  turned  about  to  wait  for  the  third ; 
who  came  indeed,  but  after  a little  while,  for  she  had  abided, 
hearing  their  voices.  Her  also  Gold-mane  drew  up,  and  kissed 

29 


More  neigh- 
bours come  on 
to  the  road  5 
women  to  wit. 


Face-of-god 
giveth  doom 
concerning 
the  forfeit. 


her  hands,  and  she  lay  on  the  grass  by  Long-coat,  but  the  second 
maiden  stood  up  beside  the  young  man.  She  was  white-skinned 
and  golden-haired,  a very  fair  damsel,  whereas  the  last-comer 
was  but  comel}%  as  were  well-nigh  all  the  women  of  the  Dale. 

Said  Face-of-god,  looking  on  the  three  : ‘ How  comes  it, 
maidens,  that  ye  are  but  in  your  kirtles  this  sharp  autumn  morn- 
ing ? or  where  have  ye  left  your  gowns  or  your  cloaks?’ 

For  indeed  they  were  clad  but  in  close-fitting  blue  kirtles  of 
fine  wool,  embroidered  about  the  hems  with  gold  and  coloured 
threads. 

The  last-comer  laughed  and  said  : ‘ What  ails  thee.  Gold- 
mane,  to  be  so  careful  of  us,  as  if  thou  wert  our  mother  or  our 
nurse  ? Yet  if  thou  must  needs  know,  there  hang  our  gowns  on 
the  thorn-bush  down  yonder;  for  we  have  been  running  a match 
and  a forfeit ; to  wit,  that  she  who  was  last  on  the  highway 
should  go  down  again  and  bring  them  up  all  three  ; and  now 
that  is  my  day’s  work : but  since  thou  art  here,  Alderman’s  son, 
thou  shalt  go  down  instead  of  me  and  fetch  them  up.’ 

But  he  laughed  merrily  and  outright,  and  said : ‘ That  will  I 
not,  for  there  be  but  twenty-four  hours  in  the  day,  and  what 
between  eating  and  drinking  and  talking  to  fair  maidens,  I have 
enough  to  do  in  every  one  of  them.  Wasteful  a,re  ye  women, 
and  simple  is  your  forfeit.  Now  will  I,  who  am  the  Alderman’s 
son,  give  forth  a doom,  and  will  ordain  that  one  of  you  fetch  up  ' 
the  gowns  yourselves,  and  that  Long-coat  be  the  one ; for  she  is 
the  fieetest-footed  and  ablest  thereto.  Will  ye  take  my  doom? 
for  later  on  I shall  not  be  wiser.’ 

‘ Yea,’  said  the  fair  woman,  * not  because  thou  art  the  Alder- 
man’s son,  but  because  thou  art  the  fairest  man  of  the  Dale,  and 
mayst  bid  us  poor  souls  what  thou  wilt.’ 

Face-of-god  reddened  at  her  words,  and  the  speaker  and  the 
last-comer  laughed;  but  Long-coat  held  her  peace:  she  cast  one 
very  sober  look  on  him,  and  then  ran  lightly  down  the  bent;  he 
drew  near  the  edge  of  it,  and  watched  her  going;  for  her  light-foot 

30 


slimness  was  fair  to  look  on : and  he  noted  that  when  she  was 
nigh  the  thorn-bush  whereon  hung  the  bright-broidered  gowns, 
and  deemed  belike  that  she  was  not  seen,  she  kissed  both  her 
hands  where  he  had  kissed  them  erst. 

Thereat  he  drew  aback  and  turned  away  shyly,  scarce  looking 
at  the  other  twain,  who  smiled  on  him  with  somewhat  jeering 
looks  ; but  he  bade  them  farewell  and  departed  speedily;  and  if 
they  spoke,  it  was  but  softly,  for  he  heard  their  voices  no  more. 

He  went  on  under  the  sunlight  which  was  now  gilding  the  out- 
standing stones  of  the  cliffs,  and  still  his  mind  was  set  upon  the 
Bride;  and  his  meeting  with  the  mother  of  the  yet  unborn  baby,  and 
with  the  three  women  with  their  freshness  and  fairness,  did  some- 
how turn  his  thought  the  more  upon  her,  since  she  was  the  woman 
who  was  to  be  his  amongst  all  women,  for  she  was  far  fairer  than 
anyone  of  them;  and  through  all  manner  of  life  and  through  all 
kinds  of  deeds  would  he  be  with  her,  and  know  more  of  her  fair- 
ness and  kindness  than  any  other  could : and  him  seemed  he  could 
see  pictures  of  her  and  of  him  amidst  all  these  deeds  and  ways. 

Now  he  went  very  swiftly;  for  he  was  eager,  though  he  knew 
not  for  what,  and  he  thought  but  little  of  the  things  on  which  his 
eyes  fell.  He  met  none  else  on  the  road  till  he  was  come  to  Wild- 
lake’s  Way,  though  he  saw  folk  enough  down  in  the  meadows  ; 
he  was  soon  amidst  the  first  of  the  trees,  and  without  making  any 
stay  set  his  face  east  and  somewhat  north,  that  is,  toward  the 
slopes  that  led  to  the  great  mountains.  He  said  to  himself  aloud, 
as  he  wended  the  wood : ‘ Strange  ! yestereven  I thought  much 
of  the  wood,  and  I set  my  mind  on  not  going  thither,  and  this 
morning  I thought  nothing  of  it,  and  here  am  I amidst  its  trees, 
and  wending  towards  its  innermost.’ 

His  way  was  easy  at  first,  because  the  wood  for  a little  space 
was  all  of  beech,  so  that  there  was  no  undergrowth,  and  he  went 
lightly  betwixt  the  tall  grey  and  smooth  boles ; albeit  his  heart 
was  nought  so  gay  as  it  was  in  the  dale  amidst  the  sunshine. 
After  a while  the  beech-wood  grew  thinner,  and  at  last  gave  out 

31 


He  cometh 
into  the 
beech-wood. 


A path  before 
him  that 
seemeth  like  a 
slot  of  men. 


altogether,  and  he  came  into  a space  of  rough  broken  ground  with 
nought  but  a few  scrubby  oaks  and  thorn-bushes  growing  thereon 
here  and  there.  The  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  now,  and 
shone  brightly  down  on  the  waste,  though  there  were  a few  white 
clouds  high  up  above  him.  The  rabbits  scuttled  out  of  the  grass 
before  him ; here  and  there  he  turned  aside  from  a stone  on  which 
lay  coiled  an  adder  sunning  itself ; now  and  again  both  hart  and 
hind  bounded  away  from  before  him,  or  a sounder  of  wild  swine 
ran  grunting  away  toward  closer  covert.  But  nought  did  he  see 
but  the  common  sights  and  sounds  of  the  woodland  ; nor  did  he 
look  for  aught  else,  for  he  knew  this  part  of  the  woodland  indif- 
ferent well. 

He  held  on  over  this  treeless  waste  for  an  hour  or  more,  when 
the  ground  began  to  be  less  rugged,  and  he  came  upon  trees  again, 
but  thinly  scattered,  oak  and  ash  and  hornbeam  not  right  great, 
with  thickets  of  holly  and  blackthorn  between  them.  The  set 
of  the  ground  was  still  steadily  up  to  the  east  and  north-east,  and 
he  followed  it  as  one  who  wendeth  an  assured  way.  At  last  before 
him  seemed  to  rise  a wall  of  trees  and  thicket;  but  when  he  drew 
near  to  it,  lo!  an  opening  in  a certain  place,  and  a little  path  as 
if  men  were  wont  to  thread  the  tangle  of  the  wood  thereby ; 
though  hitherto  he  had  noted  no  slot  of  men,  nor  any  sign  of 
them,  since  he  had  plunged  into  the  deep  of  the  beech-wood.  He 
took  the  path  as  one  who  needs  must,  and  went  his  ways  as  it 
led.  In  sooth  it  was  well-nigh  blind,  but  he  was  a deft  woods- 
man, and  by  means  of  it  skirted  many  a close  thicket  that  had 
otherwise  stayed  him.  So  on  he  went,  and  though  the  boughs 
were  close  enough  overhead,  and  the  sun  came  through  but  in 
flecks,  he  judged  that  it  was  growing  towards  noon,  and  he  wotted 
well  that  he  was  growing  aw’eary.  For  he  had  been  long  afoot, 
and  the  more  part  of  the  time  on  a rough  way,  or  breasting  a 
slope  which  was  at  whiles  steep  enough. 

At  last  the  track  led  him  skirting  about  an  exceeding  close 
thicket  into  a small  clearing,  through  which  ran  a little  wood- 

32 


land  rill  amidst  rushes  and  dead  leaves : there  was  a low  mound  The  token  of 
near  the  eastern  side  of  this  wood-lawn,  as  though  there  had  ^ dwelling  of 
once  been  a dwelling  of  man  there,  but  no  other  sign  or  slot  of 
man  was  there. 

So  Face-of-god  made  stay  in  that  place,  casting  himself  down 
beside  the  rill  to  rest  him  and  eat  and  drink  somewhat.  What- 
ever thoughts  had  been  with  him  through  the  wood  (and  they 
had  been  many)  concerning  his  House  and  his  name,  and  his 
father,  and  the  Journey  he  might  make  to  the  cities  of  the  West- 
land,  and  what  was  to  befall  him  when  he  was  wedded,  and  what 
war  or  trouble  should  be  on  his  hands — all  this  was  now  mingled 
together  and  confused  by  this  rest  amidst  his  weariness.  He  laid 
down  his  scrip,  and  drew  his  meat  from  it  and  ate  what  he 
would,  and  dipping  his  gilded  beaker  into  the  brook,  drank  water 
smacking  of  the  damp  musty  savour  of  the  woodland  ; and  then 
his  head  sank  back  on  a little  mound  in  the  short  turf,  and  he 
fell  asleep  at  once.  A long  dream  he  had  in  short  space ; and 
therein  were  blent  his  thoughts  of  the  morning  with  the  deeds 
of  yesterday;  and  other  matters  long  forgotten  in  his  waking 
hours  came  back  to  his  slumber  in  unordered  confusion ; all  which 
made  up  for  him  pictures  clear,  but  of  little  meaning,  save  that, 
as  oft  befalls  in  dreams,  whatever  he  was  a-doing  he  felt  himself 
belated. 

When  he  awoke,  smiling  at  something  strange  in  his  gone-by 
dream,  he  looked  up  to  the  heavens,  thinking  to  see  signs  of  the 
even  at  hand,  for  he  seemed  to  have  been  dreaming  so  long. 

The  sky  was  thinly  overcast  by  now,  but  by  his  wonted  wood- 
craft he  knew  the  whereabouts  of  the  sun,  and  that  it  was  scant 
an  hour  after  noon.  He  sat  there  till  he  was  wholly  awake,  and 
then  drank  once  more  of  the  woodland  water ; and  he  said  to 
himself,  but  out  loud,  for  he  was  fain  of  the  sound  of  a man’s 
voice,  though  it  were  but  his  own : 

‘What  is  mine  errand  hither?  Whither  wend  I?  What 
shall  I have  done  to-morrow  that  I have  hitherto  left  undone  ? 

33  F 


He  goeth  on 
his  way  again. 


Or  what  manner  of  man  shall  I be  then  other  than  I am 
now  ?’ 

Yet  though  he  said  the  words  he  failed  to  think  the  thought,  or 
it  left  him  in  a moment  of  time,  and  he  thought  but  of  the  Bride 
and  her  kindness.  Yet  that  abode  with  him  but  a moment,  and 
again  he  saw  himself  and  those  two  women  on  the  highway  edge^ 
and  Long-coat  lingering  on  the  slope  below,  kissing  his  kisses  on 
her  hands  ; and  he  was  sorry  that  she  desired  him  overmuch,  for 
she  was  a fair  woman  and  a friendly.  But  all  that  also  flowed 
from  him  at  once,  and  he  had  no  thought  in  him  but  that  he  also 
desired  something  that  he  lacked  : and  this  was  a burden  to  him, 
and  he  rose  up  frowning,  and  said  to  himself,  ‘ Am  I become  a 
mere  sport  of  dreams,  whether  I sleep  or  wake  ? I will  go  back- 
ward— or  forward,  but  will  think  no  more.’ 

Then  he  ordered  his  gear  again,  and  took  the  path  onward 
and  upward  toward  the  Great  Mountains  ; and  the  track  was 
even  fainter  than  before  for  a while,  so  that  he  had  to  seek  his 
way  diligently. 


CHAPTER  V.  FACE-OF-GOD  FALLS  IN  WITH  MENFOLK 
ON  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

NOW  he  plodded  on  steadily,  and  for  a long  time  the  forest 
changed  but  little,  and  of  wild  things  he  saw  only  a few 
of  those  that  love  the  closest  covert.  The  ground  still 
went  up  and  up,  though  at  whiles  were  hollows,  and  steeper 
bents  out  of  them  again,  and  the  half-blind  path  or  slot  still  led 
past  the  close  thickets  and  fallen  trees,  and  he  made  way  with- 
out let  or  hindrance.  At  last  once  more  the  wood  began  to  thin, 
and  the  trees  themselves  to  be  smaller  and  gnarled  and  ill- 
grown  : therewithal  the  day  was  waning,  and  the  sky  was  quite 
clear  again  as  the  afternoon  grew  into  a fair  autumn  evening. 
Now  the  trees  failed  altogether,  and  the  slope  grown  steeper 

34 


was  covered  with  heather  and  ling ; and  looking  up,  he  saw  before 
him  quite  near  by  seeming  in  the  clear  even  (though  indeed  they 
were  yet  far  away)  the  snowy  peaks  flushed  with  the  sinking 
sun  against  the  frosty  dark-grey  eastern  sky ; and  below  them 
the  dark  rock-mountains,  and  below  these  again,  and  nigh  to  him 
indeed,  the  fells  covered  with  pine-woods  and  looking  like  a wall 
to  the  heaths  he  trod. 

He  stayed  a little  while  and  turned  his  head  to  look  at  the  way 
whereby  he  had  come ; but  that  way  a swell  of  the  oak-forest 
hid  everything  but  the  wood  itself,  making  a wall  behind  him  as 
the  pine-wood  made  a wall  before.  There  came  across  him  then  a 
sharp  memory  of  the  boding  words  which  Stone-face  had  spoken 
last  night,  and  he  felt  as  if  he  were  now  indeed  within  the  trap. 
But  presently  he  laughed  and  said  : ^ I am  a fool : this  comes  of 
being  alone  in  the  dark  wood  and  the  dismal  waste,  after  the 
merry  faces  of  the  Dale  had  swept  away  my  foolish  musings  of 
yesterday  and  the  day  before.  Lo!  here  I stand,  a man  of  the 
Face,  sword  and  axe  by  my  side  ; if  death  come,  it  can  but  come 
once  ; and  if  I fear  not  death,  what  shall  make  me  afraid  ? The 
Gods  hate  me  not,  and  will  not  hurt  me  ; and  they  are  not  ugly, 
but  beauteous.’ 

Therewith  he  strode  on  again,  and  soon  came  to  a place 
where  the  ground  sank  into  a shallow  valley  and  the  ling  gave 
place  to  grass  for  a while,  and  there  were  tall  old  pines  scattered 
about,  and  betwixt  them  grey  rocks ; this  he  passed  through, 
climbing  a steep  bent  out  of  it,  and  the  pines  were  all  about 
him  now,  though  growing  wide  apart,  till  at  last  he  came  to  where 
they  thickened  into  a wood,  not  very  close,  wherethrough  he 
went  merrily,  singing  to  himself  and  swinging  his  spear.  He  was 
soon  through  this  wood,  and  came  on  to  a wide  well-grassed 
wood-lawn,  hedged  by  the  wood  aforesaid  on  three  sides,  but 
sloping  up  slowly  toward  the  black  wall  of  the  thicker  pine-wood 
on  the  fourth  side,  and  about  half  a furlong  overthwart  and  end- 
long. The  sun  had  set  while  he  was  in  the  last  wood,  but  it  was 

35 


He  Cometh 
into  the  pine- 
woods. 


A house  in 
the  pine- 
wood.  A 
spear  from 
the  wood. 


still  broad  daylight  on  the  wood-lawn,  and  as  he  stood  there  he 
was  ware  of  a house  under  the  pine-wood  on  the  other  side,  built 
long  and  low,  much  like  the  houses  of  the  Woodland-Carles,  but 
rougher  fashioned  and  of  unhewn  trees.  He  gazed  on  it,  and  said 
aloud  to  himself  as  his  wont  was  : 

* Marvellous ! here  is  a dwelling  of  man,  scarce  a day’s  journey 
from  Burgstead ; yet  have  I never  heard  tell  of  it : may  happen 
some  of  the  Woodland-Carles  have  built  it,  and  are  on  some  errand 
of  hunting  peltries  up  in  the  mountains,  or  maybe  are  seeking 
copper  and  tin  among  the  rocks.  Well,  at  least  let  us  go  see  what 
manner  of  men  dwell  there,  and  if  they  are  minded  for  a guest  to- 
night ; for  fain  were  I of  a bed  beneath  a roof,  and  of  a board  with 
strong  meat  and  drink  on  it.’ 

Therewith  he  set  forward,  not  heeding  much  that  the  wood  he 
had  passed  through  was  hard  on  his  left  hand ; but  he  had  gone 
but  twenty  paces  when  he  saw  a red  thing  at  the  edge  of  the  wood, 
and  then  a glitter,  and  a spear  came  whistling  forth,  and  smote 
his  own  spear  so  hard  close  to  the  steel  that  it  flew  out  of  his  hand  ; 
then  came  a great  shout,  and  a man  clad  in  a scarlet  kirtle  ran 
forth  on  him.  Face-of-god  had  his  axe  in  his  hand  in  a twinkling, 
and  ran  at  once  to  meet  his  foe ; but  the  man  had  the  hill  on  his 
side  as  he  rushed  on  with  a short-sword  in  his  hand.  Axe  and 
sword  clashed  together  for  a moment  of  time,  and  then  both  the 
men  rolled  over  on  the  grass  together,  and  Face-of-god  as  he  fell 
deemed  that  he  heard  the  shrill  cry  of  a woman.  Now  Face-of- 
god  found  that  he  was  the  nethermost,  for  if  he  was  strong,  yet 
was  his  foe  stronger ; the  axe  had  flown  out  of  his  hand  also,  while 
the  strange  man  still  kept  a hold  of  his  short-sword;  andpresently, 
though  he  still  struggled  all  he  could,  he  saw  the  man  draw  back 
his  hand  to  smite  with  the  said  sword  ; and  at  that  nick  of  time  the 
foeman’s  knee  was  on  his  breast,  his  left  hand  was  doubled  back 
behind  him,  and  his  right  wrist  was  gripped  hard  in  the  stranger’s 
left  hand.  Even  therewith  his  ears,  sharpened  by  the  coming  death, 
heard  the  sound  of  footsteps  and  fluttering  raiment  drawing  near  ; 


something  dark  came  between  him  and  the  sky;  there  was  the  Afairwoman. 
sound  of  a great  stroke,  and  the  big  man  loosened  his  grip  and  fell 
olf  him  to  one  side. 

Face-of-god  leapt  up  and  ran  to  his  axe  and  got  hold  of  it ; 
but  turning  round  found  himself  face  to  face  with  a tall  woman 
holding  in  her  hand  a stout  staff  like  the  limb  of  a tree.  She  was 
calm  and  smiling,  though  forsooth  it  was  she  who  had  stricken  the 
stroke  and  stayed  the  sword  from  his  throat.  His  hand  and  axe 
dropped  down  to  his  side  when  he  saw  what  it  was  that  faced  him, 
and  that  the  woman  was  young  and  fair;  so  he  spake  to  her  and  said: 

‘ What  aileth,  maiden  ? is  this  man  thy  foe  ? doth  he  oppress 
thee  ? shall  I slay  him  ? ’ 

She  laughed  and  said  : ‘Thou  art  open-handed  in  thy  proffers  : 
he  might  have  asked  the  like  concerning  thee  but  a minute  ago.’ 

‘ Yea,  yea,’  said  Gold-mane,  laughing  also,  ‘but  he  asked  it 
not  of  thee.’ 

‘ That  is  sooth/  she  said,  ‘ but  since  thou  hast  asked  me,  I 
will  tell  thee  that  if  thou  slay  him  it  will  be  my  harm  as  well  as 
his  ; and  in  my  country  a man  that  taketh  a gift  is  not  wont 
to  break  the  giver’s  head  with  it  straightway.  The  man  is  my 
brother,  O stranger,  and  presently,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  mayst  be 
eating  at  the  same  board  with  him.  Or  if  thou  wilt,  thou  mayst  go 
thy  ways  unhurt  into  the  wood.  But  I had  liefer  of  the  twain  that 
thou  wert  in  our  house  to-night ; for  thou  hast  a wrong  against  us.’ 

Her  voice  was  sweet  and  clear,  and  she  spake  the  last  words 
kindly,  and  drew  somewhat  nigher  to  Gold-mane.  Therewithal  the 
smitten  man  sat  up,  and  put  his  hand  to  his  head,  and  quoth  he  : 

‘ Angry  is  my  sister  ! good  it  is  to  wear  the  helm  abroad  when 
she  shaketh  the  nut-trees.’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  she,  ‘ it  is  thy  luck  that  thou  wert  bare-headed, 
else  had  I been  forced  to  smite  thee  on  the  face.  Thou  churl, 
since  when  hath  it  been  our  wont  to  thrust  knives  into  a guest,  who 
is  come  of  great  kin,  a man  of  gentle  heart  and  fair  face  ? Come 
hither  and  handsel  him  self-doom  for  thy  fool’s  onset ! ’ 

37 


Peace  is  made. 


The  man  rose  to  his  feet  and  said  : ‘Well,  sister,  least  said, 
soonest  mended.  A clout  on  the  head  is  worse  than  a woman’s 
chiding ; but  since  ye  have  given  me  one,  ye  may  forbear  the  other.  ’ 

Therewith  he  drew  near  to  them.  He  was  a very  big-made 
man,  most  stalwarth,  with  dark  red  hair  and  a thin  pointed  beard ; 
his  nose  was  straight  and  fine,  his  eyes  grey  and  well-opened,  but 
somewhat  fierce  withal.  Yet  was  he  in  nowise  evil-looking ; he 
seemed  some  thirty  summers  old.  He  was  clad  in  a short  scarlet 
kirtle,  a goodly  garment,  with  a hood  of  like  web  pulled  off  his 
head  on  to  his  shoulders  : he  bore  a great  gold  ring  on  his  left 
arm,  and  a collar  of  gold  came  down  on  to  his  breast  from  under 
his  hood. 

As  for  the  woman,  she  was  clad  in  a long  white  linen  smock, 
and  over  it  a short  gown  of  dark  blue  woollen,  and  she  had  skin 
shoes  on  her  feet. 

Now  the  man  came  up  to  Face-of-god,  and  took  his  hand  and 
said  : ‘ I deemed  thee  a foe,  and  I may  not  have  over-many  foes 
alive  : but  it  seems  that  thou  art  to  be  a friend,  and  that  is  well 
and  better ; so  herewith  I handsel  thee  self-doom  in  the  matter  of 
the  onslaught.’ 

Then  Face-of-god  laughed  and  said:  ‘The  doom  is  soon  given 
forth  ; against  the  tumble  on  the  grass  I set  the  clout  on  the  head ; 
there  is  nought  left  over  to  pay  to  any  man’s  son.’ 

Said  the  scarlet-clad  man  : ‘ Belike  by  thine  eyes  thou  art  a true 
man,  and  wilt  not  bewray  me.  Now  is  there  no  foeman  here,  but 
rather  maybe  a friend  both  now  and  in  time  to  come.’  There- 
with he  cast  his  arms  about  Face-of-god  and  kissed  him.  But 
Face-of-god  turned  about  to  the  woman  and  said:  ‘Is  the  peace 
wholly  made  ? ’ 

She  shook  her  head  and  said  soberly : ‘Nay,  thou  art  too  fair 
for  a woman  to  kiss.’ 

He  flushed  red,  as  his  wont  was  when  a woman  praised  him ; 
yet  was  his  heart  full  of  pleasure  and  well-liking.  But  she  laid 
her  hand  on  his  shoulder  and  said : ‘ Now  is  it  for  thee  to  choose 

38 


betwixt  the  wild-wood  and  the  hall,  and  whether  thou  wilt  be  a 
guest  or  a wayfarer  this  night.’ 

As  she  touched  him  there  took  hold  of  him  a sweetness  of  plea- 
sure he  had  never  felt  erst,  and  he  answered : ‘ I will  be  thy  guest 
and  not  thy  stranger.’ 

‘ Come  then,’  she  said,  and  took  his  hand  in  hers,  so  that  he 
scarce  felt  the  earth  under  his  feet,  as  they  went  all  three  together 
toward  the  house  in  the  gathering  dusk,  while  eastward  where  the 
peaks  of  the  great  mountains  dipped  was  a light  that  told  of  the 
rising  of  the  moon. 


CHAPTER  VI.  OF  FACE-OF-GOD  AND  THOSE  MOUN- 
TAIN-DWELLERS. 

A YARD  or  two  from  the  threshold  Gold-mane  hung  back 
a moment,  entangled  in  some  such  misgiving  as  a man  is 
wont  to  feel  when  he  is  just  about  to  do  some  new  deed, 
but  is  not  yet  deep  in  the  story  ; his  new  friends  noted  that,  for 
they  smiled  each  in  their  own  way,  and  the  woman  drew  her  hand 
away  from  his.  Face-of-god  held  out  his  still  as  though  to  take 
hers  again,  and  therewithal  he  changed  countenance  and  said  as 
though  he  had  stayed  but  to  ask  that  question : 

‘Tell  me  thy  name,  tall  man  ; and  thou,  fair  woman,  tell  me 
thine  ; for  how  can  we  talk  together  else  ? ’ 

The  man  laughed  outright  and  said  : ‘ The  young  chieftain 
thinks  that  this  house  also  should  be  his  ! Nay,  young  man,  I 
know  what  is  in  thy  thought,  be  not  ashamed  that  thou  art  wary; 
and  be  assured!  We  shall  hurt  thee  no  more  than  thou  hast 
been  hurt.  Now  as  to  my  name  ; the  name  that  was  born  with 
me  is  gone  : the  name  that  was  given  me  hath  been  taken  from 
me  : now  I belike  must  give  myself  a name,  and  that  shall  be 
Wild-wearer ; but  it  may  be  that  thou  thyself  shalt  one  day 
give  me  another,  and  call  me  Guest.’ 

. 39 


On  the  thres- 
hold of  the 
house. 


They  enter 
into  the 
house. 


His  sister  gazed  at  him  solemnly  as  he  spoke,  and  Face-of-god 
beholding  her  the  while,  deemed  that  her  beauty  grew  and  grew 
till  she  seemed  as  aweful  as  a Goddess  ; and  into  his  mind  it 
came  that  this  over-strong  man  and  over-lovely  woman  were 
nought  mortal,  and  they  withal  dealing  with  him  as  father  and 
mother  deal  with  a wayward  child  : then  for  a moment  his  heart 
failed  him,  and  he  longed  for  the  peace  of  Burgdale,  and  even  the 
lonely  wood.  But  therewith  she  turned  to  him  and  let  her  hand 
come  into  his  again,  and  looked  kindly  on  him  and  said  : ‘ And 
as  for  me,  call  me  the  Friend;  the  name  is  good  and  will  serve 
for  many  things.’ 

He  looked  down  from  her  face  and  his  eyes  lighted  on  her  hand, 
and  when  he  noted  even  amid  the  evening  dusk  how  fair  and 
lovely  it  was  fashioned,  and  yet  as  though  it  were  deft  in  the 
crafts  that  the  daughters  of  menfolk  use,  his  fear  departed,  and 
the  pleasure  of  his  longing  filled  his  heart,  and  he  drew  her  hand 
to  him  to  kiss  it;  but  she  held  it  back.  Then  he  said:  ‘ It  is  the 
custom  of  the  Dale  to  all  women.’ 

So  she  let  him  kiss  her  hand,  heeding  the  kiss  nothing,  and 
said  soberly : 

‘ Then  art  thou  of  Burgdale,  and  if  it  were  lawful  to  guess, 
I would  say  that  thy  name  is  Face-of-god,  of  the  House  of 
the  Face.’ 

‘ Even  so  it  is,’  said  he,  ‘ but  in  the  Dale  those  that  love  me 
do  mostly  call  me  Gold-mane.’ 

It  is  well  named,’  she  said,  ‘ and  seldom  wilt  thou  be  called 
otherwise,  for  thou  wilt  be  well-beloved.  But  come  in  now.  Gold- 
mane,  for  night  is  at  hand,  and  here  have  we  meat  and  lodging 
such  as  an  hungry  and  weary  man  may  take;  though  we  be 
broken  people,  dwellers  in  the  waste.’ 

Therewith  she  led  him  gently  over  the  threshold  into  the  hall, 
and  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  she  were  the  fairest  and  the  noblest  of 
all  the  Queens  of  ancient  story. 

When  he  was  in  the  house  he  looked  and  saw  that,  rough  as 

40 


it  was  without  it  lacked  not  fairness  within.  The  floor  was  of  The  fashion 

hard-trodden  earth  strewn  with  pine-twigs,  and  with  here  and  of  the  hall 

there  brown  bearskins  laid  on  it : there  was  a standing  table  near 

the  upper  end  athwart  the  hall,  and  a dais  beyond  that,  but  no 

endlong  table.  Gold-mane  looked  to  the  shut-beds,  and  saw 

that  they  were  large  and  fair,  though  there  were  but  a few  of  them ; 

and  at  the  lower  end  was  a loft  for  a sleeping  chamber  dight  very 

fairly  with  broidered  cloths.  The  hangings  on  the  walls,  though 

they  left  some  places  bare  which  were  hung  with  fresh  boughs, 

were  fairer  than  any  he  had  ever  seen,  so  that  he  deemed  that  they 

must  come  from  far  countries  and  the  City  of  Cities  : therein  were 

images  wrought  of  warriors  and  fair  women  of  old  time  and  their 

dealings  with  the  Gods  and  the  Giants,  and  Wondrous  wights  ; 

and  he  deemed  that  this  was  the  story  of  some  great  kindred,  and 

that  their  token  and  the  sign  of  their  banner  must  needs  be  the 

Wood-wqlf,  for  everywhere  was  it  wrought  in  these  pictured  webs. 

Perforce  he  looked  long  and  earnestly  at  these  fair  things,  for  the 
hall  was  not  dark  yet,  because  the  brands  on  the  hearth  were 
flaming  their  last,  and  when  Wild- wearer  beheld  him  so  gazing, 
he  stood  up  and  looked  too  for  a moment,  and  then  smote  his 
right  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  and  turned  away  and  strode 
up  and  down  the  hall  as  one  in  angry  thought. 

But  the  woman,  even  the  Friend,  bestirred  herself  for  the  ser- 
vice of  the  guest,  and  brought  water  for  his  hands  and  feet,  and 
when  she  had  washed  him,  bore  him  the  wine  of  Welcome  and 
drank  to  him  and  bade  him  drink ; and  he  all  the  while  was  shame- 
faced ; for  it  was  to  him  as  if  one  of  the  Ladies  of  the  Heavenly 
Burg  were  doing  him  service.  Then  she  went  away  by  a door 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  hall,  and  Wild-wearer  came  and  sat  down 
by  Gold-mane,  and  fell  a-talking  with  him  about  the  ways  of  the 
Dalesmen,  and  their  garths,  and  the  pastures  and  growths  thereof ; 
and  what  temper  the  carles  themselves  were  of ; which  were 
good  men,  which  were  ill,  which  was  loved  and  which  scorned ; no 
otherwise  than  if  he  had  been  the  goodman  of  some  neighbouring 

41  G 


Another  new-  dale  ; and  Gold-mane  told  him  whatso  he  knew,  for  he  saw  no 
comer.  harm  therein. 

After  a while  the  outer  door  opened,  and  there  came  in  a woman 
of  some  flve-and-twenty  winters,  trimly  and  strongly  built;  short- 
skirted  she  was  and  clad  as  a hunter,  with  a bow  in  her  hand  and 
a quiver  at  her  back : she  unslung  a pouch,  which  she  emptied  at 
Wild-wearer’s  feet  of  a leash  of  hares  and  two  brace  of  moun- 
tain grouse  ; of  Face-of-god  she  took  but  little  heed. 

Said  Wild-wearer  : * This  is  good  for  to-morrow,  not  for  to- 
day ; the  meat  is  well-nigh  on  the  board/ 

Then  Gold-mane  smiled,  for  he  called  to  mind  his  home-coming 
of  yesterday.  But  the  woman  said  : 

‘ The  fault  is  not  mine ; she  told  me  of  the  coming  guest  but 
three  hours  agone.’ 

‘ Ay  ? ’ said  Wild-wearer,  ‘ she  looked  for  a guest  then  ? ’ 
‘Yea,  certes,’  said  the  woman,  ‘else  why  went  I forth  this 
afternoon,  as  wearied  as  I was  with  yesterday  ? ’ 

‘ Well,  well,’  said  Wild-wearer,  ‘ get  to  thy  due  work  or  go 
play ; I meddle  not  with  meat ! and  for  thee  all  jests  are  as 
bitter  earnest.’ 

‘ And  with  thee,  chief,’  she  said,  ‘ it  is  no  otherwise;  surely  I 
am  made  on  thy  model.’ 

‘ Thy  tongue  is  longer,  friend,’  said  he ; ‘ now  tarry  if  thou 
wilt,  and  if  the  supper’s  service  craveth  thee  not.’ 

She  turned  away  with  one  keen  look  at  Face-of-god,  and  de- 
parted through  the  door  at  the  lower  end  of  the  hall. 

By  this  time  the  hall  was  dusk,  for  there  were  no  candles  there, 
and  the  hearth-fire  was  but  smouldering.  Wild-wearer  sat  silent 
and  musing  now,  and  Face-of-god  spake  not,  for  he  was  deep  in 
wild  and  happy  dreams.  At  last  the  lower  door  opened  and  the  fair 
woman  came  into  the  hall  with  a torch  in  either  hand,  after  whom 
came  the  huntress,  now  clad  in  a dark  blue  kirtle,  and  an  old 
woman  yet  straight  and  hale  ; and  these  twain  bore  in  the  vic- 
tuals and  the  table-gear.  Then  the  three  fell  to  dighting  the 

42 


board,  and  when  it  was  all  ready,  and  Gold-mane  and  Wild- 
wearer  were  set  down  to  it,  and  with  them  the  fair  woman  and 
the  huntress,  the  old  woman  threw  good  store  of  fresh  brands  on 
the  hearth,  so  that  the  light  shone  into  every  corner ; and  even 
therewith  the  outer  door  opened,  and  four  more  men  entered, 
whereof  one  was  old,  but  big  and  stalwarth,  the  other  three 
young  : they  were  all  clad  roughly  in  sheep-brown  weed,  but 
had  helms  upon  their  heads  and  spears  in  their  hands  and  great 
swords  girt  to  their  sides  ; and  they  seemed  doughty  men  and 
ready  for  battle.  One  of  the  young  men  cast  down  by  the  door 
the  carcass  of  a big-horned  mountain  sheep,  and  then  they  all 
trooped  off  to  the  out-bower  by  the  lower  door,  and  came  back 
presently  fairly  clad  and  without  their  weapons.  Wild- wearer 
nodded  to  them  kindly,  and  they  sat  at  table  paying  no  more 
heed  to  Face-of-god  than  to  cast  him  a nod  for  salutation. 

Then  said  the  old  woman  to  them  : ‘ Well,  lads,  have  ye 
been  doing  or  sleeping  ?’ 

Sleeping,  mother,’  said  one  of  the  young  men,  ‘ as  was  but 
due  after  last  night  was,  and  to-morrow  shall  be.’ 

Said  the  huntress  : ‘ Hold  thy  peace.  Wood-wise,  and  let  thy 
tongue  help  thy  teeth  to  deal  with  thy  meat ; for  this  is  not  the 
talking  hour.’ 

‘ Nay,  Bow-may/  said  another  of  the  swains,  ‘ since  here  is  a 
new  man,  now  is  the  time  to  talk  to  him.’ 

Said  the  huntress  : ‘ ’Tis  thine  hands  that  talk  best.  Wood- 
wont  ; it  is  not  they  that  shall  bring  thee  to  shame.’ 

Spake  the  third  : ^ What  have  we  to  do  with  shame  here,  far 
away  from  dooms  and  doomers,  and  elders,  and  wardens,  and 
guarded  castles  ? If  the  new  man  listeth  to  speak,  let  him  speak ; 
or  to  fight,  then  let  him ; it  shall  ever  be  man  to  man.’ 

Then  spake  the  old  woman  : ‘ Son  Wood-wicked,  hold  thy 
peace,  and  forget  the  steel  that  ever  eggeth  thee  on  to  draw.’ 
Therewith  she  set  the  last  matters  on  the  board,  while  the 
three  swains  sat  and  eyed  Gold-mane  somewhat  fiercely,  now  that 

43 


More  men 
come  into 
the  hall. 


Talk  in  the 
hall. 


words  had  stirred  them,  and  he  had  sat  there  saying  nothing,  as 
one  who  was  better  than  they,  and  contemned  them ; but  now 
spake  Wild- wearer : 

‘ Whoso  hungreth  let  him  eat ! Whoso  would  slumber,  let 
him  to  bed.  But  he  who  would  bicker,  it  must  needs  be  with 
me.  Here  is  a man  of  the  Dale,  who  hath  sought  the  wood  in 
peace,  and  hath  found  us.  His  hand  is  ready  and  his  heart  is 
guileless  ; if  ye  fear  him,  run  away  to  the  wood,  and  come  back 
when  he  is  gone  ; but  none  shall  mock  him  while  I sit  by  : now, 
lads,  be  merry  and  blithe  with  the  guest.’ 

Then  the  young  men  greeted  Gold-mane,  and  the  old  man 
said  : ^ Art  thou  of  Burgstead  ? then  wilt  thou  be  of  the  House 
of  the  Face,  and  thy  name  will  be  Face-of-god;  for  that  man 
is  called  the  fairest  of  the  Dale,  and  there  shall  be  none  fairer 
than  thou.’ 

Face-of-god  laughed  and  said  : ‘ There  be  but  few  mirrors  in 
Burgdale,  and  I have  no  mind  to  journey  west  to  the  cities  to  see 
what  manner  of  man  I be : that  were  ill  husbandry.  But  now  I have 
heard  the  names  of  the  three  swains,  tell  me  thy  name,  father  ! ’ 
Spake  the  huntress  : ‘ This  is  my  father’s  brother,  and  his  name 
is  Wood-father  ; or  ye  shall  call  him  so  : and  I am  called  Bow- 
may  because  I shoot  well  in  the  bow : and  this  old  carline  is  my 
erne’s  wife,  and  now  belike  my  mother,  if  I need  one.  But  thou, 
fair-faced  Dalesman,  little  dost  thou  need  a mirror  in  the  Dale  so 
long  as  women  abide  there ; for  their  faces  shall  be  instead  of 
mirrors  to  tell  thee  whether  thou  be  fair  and  lovely.’ 

Thereat  they  all  laughed  and  fell  to  their  victual,  which  was 
abundant,  of  wood- venison  and  mountain-fowl,  but  of  bread  was 
no  great  plenty ; wine  lacked  not,  and  that  of  the  best ; and 
Gold-mane  noted  that  the  cups  and  the  apparel  of  the  horns  and 
mazers  were  not  of  gold  nor  gilded  copper,  but  of  silver  ; and  he 
marvelled  thereat,  for  in  the  Dale  silver  was  rare. 

So  they  ate  and  drank,  and  Gold-mane  looked  ever  on  the 
Friend,  and  spake  much  with  her,  and  he  deemed  her  friendly 

44 


indeed,  and  she  seemed  most  pleased  when  he  spoke  best,  and 
led  him  on  to  do  so.  Wild- wearer  was  but  of  few  words,  and 
those  somewhat  harsh ; yet  was  he  as  a man  striving  to  be  cour- 
teous and  blithe  ; but  of  the  others  Bow-may  was  the  greatest 
speaker. 

Wild-wearer  called  healths  to  the  Sun,  and  the  Moon,  and  the 
Hosts  of  Heaven ; to  the  Gods  of  the  Earth ; to  the  Wood- 
wights  5 and  to  the  Guest.  Other  healths  also  he  called,  the 
meaning  of  which  was  dark  to  Gold-mane ; to  wit,  the  Jaws  of 
the  Wolf ; the  Silver  Arm ; the  Red  Hand  ; the  Golden  Bushel ; 
and  the  Ragged  Sword.  But  when  he  asked  the  Friend  con- 
cerning these  names  what  they  might  signify,  she  shook  her  head 
and  answered  not. 

At  last  Wild-wearer  cried  out : ‘Now,  lads,  the  night  weareth 
and  the  guest  is  weary  : therefore  whoso  of  you  hath  in  him  any 
minstrelsy,  now  let  him  make  it,  for  later  on  it  shall  be  over-late.’ 

Then  arose  Wood- wont  and  went  to  his  shut-bed  and  groped 
therein,  and  took  from  out  of  it  a fiddle  in  its  case ; and  he 
opened  the  case  and  drew  from  it  a very  goodly  fiddle,  and  he 
stood  on  the  floor  amidst  of  the  hall  and  Bow-may  his  cousin  with 
him ; and  he  laid  his  bow  on  the  fiddle  and  woke  up  song  in  it, 
and  when  it  was  well  awake  she  fell  a-singing,  and  he  to  answer- 
ing her  song,  and  at  the  last  all  they  of  the  house  sang  together ; 
and  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  words  which  they  sang : 


Wila-wearer 
calleth  strange 
healths.  They 
sing  in  the 
hall. 


She  singeth. 

Now  is  the  rain  upon  the  day, 

And  every  water’s  wide ; 

Why  busk  ye  then  to  wear  the  way, 
And  whither  will  ye  ride  ? 

He  singeth. 

Our  kine  are  on  the  eyot  still. 

The  eddies  lap  them  round ; 

45 


The  Moun- 
tain-song. 


All  dykes  the  wind-worn  waters  fill, 
And  waneth  grass  and  ground. 

She  smgeth. 

O ride  ye  to  the  river’s  brim 
In  war-weed  fair  to  see  ? 

Or  winter  waters  will  ye  swim 
In  hauberks  to  the  knee  ? 

He  singeth. 

Wild  is  the  day,  and  dim  with  rain, 
Our  sheep  are  warded  ill ; 

The  wood-wolves  gather  for  the  plain, 
Their  ravening  maws  to  fill. 

She  singeth. 

Nay,  what  is  this,  and  what  have  ye, 

A hunter’s  band,  to  bear 

The  Banner  of  our  Battle-glee 
The  skulking  wolves  to  scare  ? 

He  singeth. 

O women,  when  we  wend  our  ways 
To  deal  with  death  and  dread. 

The  Banner  of  our  Fathers’  Days 
Must  flap  the  wind  o’erhead. 

She  singeth. 

Ah,  for  the  maidens  that  ye  leave ! 
Who  now  shall  save  the  hay  ? 

What  grooms  shall  kiss  our  lips  at  eve, 
When  June  hath  mastered  May? 

He  singeth. 

The  wheat  is  won,  the  seed  is  sown. 
Here  toileth  many  a maid, 

46 


The  Song  of 
the  Ford, 


And  ere  the  hay  knee-deep  hath  grown 
Your  grooms  the  grass  shall  wade. 

They  sing  all  together. 

Then  fair  befall  the  mountain-side 
Whereon  the  play  shall  be  ! 

And  fair  befall  the  summer- tide 
That  whoso  lives  shall  see. 

Face-of-god  thought  the  song  goodly,  but  to  the  others  it  was 
well  known.  Then  said  Wood-father  : 

‘ O foster-son,  thy  foster-brother  hath  sung  well  for  a wood 
abider ; but  we  are  deeming  that  his  singing  shall  be  but  as  a 
starling  to  a throstle  matched  against  thy  new-come  guest. 
Therefore,  Dalesman,  sing  us  a song  of  the  Dale,  and  if  ye 
will,  let  it  be  of  gardens  and  pleasant  houses  of  stone,  and  fair 
damsels  therein,  and  swains  with  them  who  toil  not  overmuch  for 
a scant  livelihood,  as  do  they  of  the  waste,  whose  heads  may  not 
be  seen  in  the  Holy  Places.’ 

Said  Gold- mane : ‘ Father,  it  is  ill  to  set  the  words  of  a lonely 
man  afar  from  his  kin  against  the  song  that  cometh  from  the  heart 
of  a noble  house ; yet  may  I not  gainsay  thee,  but  will  sing  to 
thee  what  I may  call  to  mind,  and  it  is  called  the  Song  of  the  Ford.’ 
Therewith  he  sang  in  a sweet  and  clear  voice  : and  this  is  the 
meaning  of  his  words : 

In  hay-tide,  through  the  day  new-born. 

Across  the  meads  we  come  ; 

Our  hauberks  brush  the  blossomed  corn 
A furlong  short  of  home. 

Ere  yet  the  gables  we  behold 
Forth  flasheth  the  red  sun. 

And  smites  our  fallow  helms  and  cold 
Though  all  the  fight  be  done. 

47 


In  this  last  mead  of  mowing-grass 
Sweet  doth  the  clover  smell, 

Crushed  neath  our  feet  red  with  the  pass 
Where  hell  was  blent  with  hell. 

And  now  the  willowy  stream  is  nigh, 
Down  wend  we  to  the  ford ; 

No  shafts  across  its  fishes  fly, 

Nor  flasheth  there  a sword. 

But  lo  ! what  gleameth  on  the  bank 
Across  the  water  wan. 

As  when  our  blood  the  mouse-ear  drank 
And  red  the  river  ran  ? 

Nay,  hasten  to  the  ripple  clear, 

Look  at  the  grass  beyond  ! 

Lo  ye  the  dainty  band  and  dear 
Of  maidens  fair  and  fond  ! 

Lo  how  they  needs  must  take  the  stream ! 
The  water  hides  their  feet ; 

On  fair  kind  arms  the  gold  doth  gleam. 
And  midst  the  ford  we  meet. 

Up  through  the  garden  two  and  two. 
And  on  the  flowers  we  drip ; 

Their  wet  feet  kiss  the  morning  dew 
As  lip  lies  close  to  lip. 

Here  now  we  sing  ; here  now  we  stay  : 
By  these  grey  walls  we  tell 

The  love  that  lived  from  out  the  fray. 
The  love  that  fought  and  fell. 


When  he  was  done  they  all  said  that  he  had  sung  well,  and 

48 


that  the  song  was  sweet.  Yet  did  Wild- wearer  smile  somewhat ; The  day’s 
and  Bow-may  said  outright : ‘ Soft  is  the  song,  and  hath  been  made  ending, 
by  lads  and  minstrels  rather  than  by  warriors.’ 

^ Nay, kinswoman,’  said  Wood-father,‘  thou  art  hard  to  please; 
the  guest  is  kind,  and  hath  given  us  that  I asked  for,  and  I give 
him  all  thanks  therefor.’ 

Face-of-god  smiled,  but  he  heeded  little  what  they  said,  for  as 
he  sang  he  had  noted  that  the  Friend  looked  kindly  on  him  ; and 
he  thought  he  saw  that  once  or  twice  she  put  out  her  hand  as  if  to 
touch  him,  but  drew  it  back  again  each  time.  She  spake  after  a 
little  and  said : 

‘ Here  now  hath  been  a stream  of  song  running  betwixt  the 
Mountain  and  the  Dale  even  as  doth  a river;  and  this  is  good  to 
come  between  our  dreams  of  what  hath  been  and  what  shall  be.^ 

Then  she  turned  to  Gold- mane,  and  said  to  him  scarce  loud  enough 
for  all  to  hear  : 

‘ Herewith  I bid  thee  good-night,  O Dalesman  ; and  this  other 
word  I have  to  thee  : heed  not  what  befalleth  in  the  night,  but 
sleep  thy  best,  for  nought  shall  be  to  thy  scathe.  And  when  thou 
wakest  in  the  morning,  if  we  are  yet  here,  it  is  well ; but  if  we 
are  not,  then  abide  us  no  long  while,  but  break  thy  fast  on  the 
victual  thou  wilt  find  upon  the  board,  and  so  depart  and  go  thy 
ways  home.  And  yet  thou  mayst  look  to  it  to  see  us  again  before 
thou  diest.’ 

Therewith  she  held  out  her  hand  to  him,  and  he  took  it  and  kissed 
it ; and  she  went  to  her  chamber-aloft  at  the  lower  end  of  the  hall. 

And  when  she  was  gone,  once  more  he  had  a deeming  of  her  that 
she  was  of  the  kindred  of  the  Gods.  At  her  departure  him-seemed 
that  the  hall  grew  dull  and  small  and  smoky,  and  the  night  seemed 
long  to  him  and  doubtful  the  coming  of  the  day. 


49 


H 


CHAPTER  VII.  FACE-OF-GOD  TALKETH  WITH  THE 
FRIEND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN. 


A stir  in  the 
night. 


SO  now  went  all  men  to  bed;  and  Face-of-god’s  shut-bed  was 
over  against  the  outer  door  and  toward  the  lower  end  of  the 
hall,  and  on  the  panel  about  it  hung  the  weapons  and  shields 
of  men.  Fair  was  that  chamber  and  roomy,  and  the  man  was 
weary  despite  his  eagerness,  so  that  he  went  to  sleep  as  soon  as 
his  head  touched  the  pillow ; but  within  a while  (he  deemed  about 
two  hours  after  midnight)  he  was  awaked  by  the  clattering  of 
the  weapons  against  the  panel,  and  the  sound  of  men’s  hands 
taking  them  down ; and  when  he  was  fully  awake,  he  heard  withal 
men  going  up  and  down  the  house  as  if  on  errands  : but  he  called 
to  mind  what  the  Friend  had  said  to  him,  and  he  did  not  so  much 
as  turn  himself  toward  the  hall ; for  he  said : ‘ Belike  these  men 
are  outlaws  and  Wolves  of  the  Holy  Places,  yet  by  seeming  they 
are  good  fellows  and  nought  churlish,  nor  have  I to  do  with  taking 
up  the  feud  against  them.  I will  abide  the  morning.  Yet  me- 
seemeth  that  she  drew  me  hither : for  what  cause  ? ’ 

Therewith  he  fell  asleep  again,  and  dreamed  no  more.  But 
when  he  awoke  the  sun  was  shining  broad  upon  the  hall-floor,  and 
he  sat  up  and  listened,  but  could  hear  no  sound  save  the  moaning 
of  the  wind  in  the  pine-boughs  and  the  chatter  of  the  starlings 
about  the  gables  of  the  house ; and  the  place  seemed  so  exceeding 
lonely  to  him  that  he  was  in  a manner  feared  by  that  loneliness. 

Then  he  arose  and  clad  himself,  and  went  forth  into  the  hall 
and  gazed  about  him,  and  at  first  he  deemed  indeed  that  there  was 
no  one  therein.  But  at  last  he  looked  and  beheld  the  upper  gable, 
and  there  underneath  a most  goodly  hanging  was  the  glorious 
shape  of  a woman  sitting  on  a bench  covered  over  with  a cloth  of 
gold  and  silver  ; and  he  looked  and  looked  to  see  if  the  woman 
might  stir,  and  if  she  were  alive,  and  she  turned  her  head  toward 
him,  and  lo  it  was  the  Friend;  and  his  heart  rose  to  his  mouth  for 
wonder  and  fear  and  desire.  For  now  he  doubted  whether  the 

50 


other  folk  were  aught  save  shows  and  shadows,  and  she  the  Goddess  The  Friend 
who  had  fashioned  them  out  of  nothing  for  his  bewilderment,  pre-  hi  the  Hall, 
sently  to  return  to  nothing. 

Yet  whatever  he  might  fear  or  doubt,  he  went  up  the  hall  to- 
wards her  till  he  was  quite  nigh  to  her,  and  there  he  stood  silent, 
wondering  at  her  beauty  and  desiring  her  kindness. 

Grey-eyed  she  was  like  her  brother  ; but  her  hair  the  colour  of 
red  wheat : her  lips  full  and  red,  her  chin  round,  her  nose  fine  and 
straight.  Her  hands  and  all  her  body  fashioned  exceeding  sweetly 
and  delicately ; yet  not  as  if  she  were  an  image  of  which  the 
like  might  be  found  if  the  craftsman  were  but  deft  enough  to  make 
a perfect  thing,  but  in  such  a way  that  there  was  none  like  to 
her  for  those  that  had  eyes  to  behold  her  as  she  was ; and  none 
could  ever  be  made  like  to  her,  even  by  such  a master-craftsman 
as  could  fashion  a body  without  a blemish. 

She  was  clad  in  a white  smock,  whose  hems  were  broidered 
with  gold  wire  and  precious  gems  of  the  Mountains,  and  over  that 
a gown  woven  of  gold  and  silver  : scarce  hath  the  world  such 
another.  On  her  head  was  a fillet  of  gold  and  gems,  and  there 
were  wondrous  gold  rings  on  her  arms  : her  feet  lay  bare  on  the 
dark  grey  wolf-skin  that  was  stretched  before  her. 

She  smiled  kindly  upon  his  solemn  and  troubled  face,  and  her 
voice  sounded  strangelj’^  familiar  to  him  coming  from  all  that 
loveliness,  as  she  said  : ‘ Hail,  Face-of-god  ! here  am  I left 
alone,  although  I deemed  last  night  that  I should  be  gone  with  the 
others.  Therefore  am  I fain  to  show  myself  to  thee  in  fairer 
array  than  yesternight ; for  though  we  dwell  in  the  wild-wood, 
afar  from  the  solace  of  folk,  yet  are  we  not  of  thralls’  blood.  But 
come  now,  I bid  thee  break  thy  fast  and  talk  with  me  a little 
while  ; and  then  shalt  thou  depart  in  peace.’ 

Spake  Face-of-god,  and  his  voice  trembled  as  he  spake: 

* What  art  thou  ? Last  night  I deemed  at  whiles  once  and  again 
that  thou  wert  of  the  Gods ; and  now  that  I behold  thee  thus, 
and  it  is  broad  daylight,  and  of  those  others  is  no  more  to  be  seen 

51 


The  Friend 
talketh  with 
Face-of-god. 


than  if  they  had  never  lived,  I cannot  but  deem  that  it  is  even  so, 
and  that  thou  comest  from  the  City  that  shall  never  perish.  Now 
if  thou  be  a goddess,  I have  nought  to  pray  thee,  save  to  slay 
me  speedily  if  thou  hast  a mind  for  my  death.  But  if  thou  art 
a woman ’ 

She  broke  in : * Gold-mane,  stay  thy  prayer  and  hold  thy 
peace  for  this  time,  lest  thou  repent  when  repentance  availeth 
not.  And  this  I say  because  I am  none  of  the  Gods  nor  akin  to 
them,  save  far  off  through  the  generations,  as  art  thou  also,  and 
all  men  of  goodly  kindred.  Now  I bid  thee  eat  thy  meat,  since  ’tis 
ill  talking  betwixt  a full  man  and  a fasting ; and  I have  dight  it 
myself  with  mine  own  hands ; for  Bow-may  and  the  Wood-mother 
went  away  with  the  rest  three  hours  before  dawn.  Come  sit  and 
eat  as  thou  hast  a hardy  heart ; as  forsooth  thou  shouldest  do  if 
I were  a very  goddess.  Take  heed,  friend,  lest  I take  thee  for 
some  damsel  of  the  lower  Dale  arrayed  in  Earl’s  garments.’ 

She  laughed  therewith,  and  leaned  toward  him  and  put  forth 
her  hand  to  him,  and  he  took  it  and  caressed  it;  and  the  exceed- 
ing beauty  of  her  body  and  of  the  raiment  which  was  as  it  were  a 
part  of  her  and  her  loveliness,  made  her  laughter  and  her  friendly 
words  strange  to  him,  as  if  one  did  not  belong  to  the  other;  as  in 
a dream  it  might  be.  Nevertheless  he  did  as  she  bade  him,  and 
sat  at  the  board  and  ate,  while  she  leaned  forward  on  the  arm  of 
her  chair  and  spake  to  him  in  friendly  wise.  And  he  wondered 
as  she  spake  that  she  knew  so  much  of  him  and  his  : and  he  kept 
saying  to  himself : ‘ She  drew  me  hither ; wherefore  did  she  so  ?’ 
But  she  said  : ‘ Gold-mane,  how  fareth  thy  father  the  Aider- 
man  ? is  he  as  good  a wright  as  ever  ? ’ 

He  told  her  : Yea,  that  ever  was  his  hammer  on  the  iron,  the 
copper,  and  the  gold,  and  that  no  wright  in  the  Dale  was  as  deft 
as  he. 

Said  she  : ‘Would  he  not  have  had  thee  seek  to  the  Cities,  to 
see  the  ways  of  the  outer  world?’ 

‘Yea,’  said  he. 


52 


She  said  : ^ Thou  wert  wise  to  naysay  that  offer ; thou  shaft 
have  enough  to  do  in  the  Dale  and  round  about  it  in  twelve 
months’  time.’ 

^ Art  thou  foresighted  ?’  said  he. 

^ Folk  have  called  me  so,’  she  said,  ‘ but  I wot  not.  But  thy 
brother  Hall-face,  how  fareth  he?’ 

‘Well;’  said  he,  ‘to  my  deeming  he  is  the  Sword  of  our 
House,  and  the  Warrior  of  the  Dale,  if  the  days  were  ready 
for  him.’ 

‘ And  Stone-face,  that  stark  ancient,’  she  said,  ‘ doth  he  still 
love  the  Folk  of  the  Dale,  and  hate  all  other  folks?’ 

‘ Nay,’  he  said,  ‘ I know  not  that,  but  I know  that  he  loveth 
us,  and  above  all  me  and  my  father.’ 

Again  she  spake  : ‘ How  fareth  the  Bride,  the  fair  maid  to 
whom  thou  art  affianced  ?’ 

As  she  spake,  it  was  to  him  as  if  his  heart  was  stricken  cold ; 
but  he  put  a force  upon  himself,  and  neither  reddened  nor 
whitened,  nor  changed  countenance  in  any  way  ; so  he  answered  : 
‘ She  was  well  the  eve  of  yesterday.’  Then  he  remembered  what 
she  was,  and  her  beauty  and  valour,  and  he  constrained  himself 
to  say : ‘ Each  day  she  groweth  fairer ; there  is  no  man’s  son 
and  no  daughter  of  woman  that  does  not  love  her  ; yea,  the  very 
beasts  of  field  and  fold  love  her.’ 

The  Friend  looked  at  him  steadily  and  spake  no  word,  but  a 
red  flush  mounted  to  her  cheeks  and  brow  and  changed  her  face  ; 
and  he  marvelled  thereat ; for  still  he  misdoubted  that  she  was 
a Goddess.  But  it  passed  away  in  a moment,  and  she  smiled 
and  said : 

‘ Guest,  thou  seemest  to  wonder  that  I know  concerning  thee 
and  the  Dale  and  thy  kindred.  But  now  shalt  thou  wot  that  I 
have  been  in  the  Dale  once  and  again,  and  my  brother  oftener 
still ; and  that  I have  seen  thee  before  yesterday.’ 

‘ That  is  marvellous,’  quoth  he,  ‘ for  sure  am  I that  I have  not 
seen  thee.’ 


She  a«keth 
after  his 
kindred. 


53 


A tale  of  the 

Burgstead 

market. 


‘ Y et  thou  hast  seen  me,’  she  said  ; ^ yet  not  altogether  as  I am 
now ; ’ and  therewith  she  smiled  on  him  friendly. 

‘ How  is  this  ?’  said  he  ; ‘ art  thou  a skin-changer  ? ^ 

‘ Yea,  in  a fashion,’  she  said.  ‘ Hearken  ! dost  thou  perchance 
remember  a day  of  last  summer  when  there  was  a market  holden 
in  Burgstead;  and  there  stood  in  the  way  over  against  the 
House  of  the  Face  a tall  old  carle  who  was  trucking  deer-skins 
for  diverse  gear;  and  with  him  was  a queen,  tall  and  dark- 
skinned,  somewhat  well-liking,  her  hair  bound  up  in  a white 
coif  so  that  none  of  it  could  be  seen ; by  the  token  that  she  had 
a large  stone  of  mountain  blue  set  in  silver  stuck  in  the  said  coif?  ’ 
As  she  spoke  she  set  her  hand  to  her  bosom  and  drew  some- 
thing from  it,  and  held  forth  her  hand  to  Gold-mane,  and  lo 
amidst  the  palm  the  great  blue  stone  set  in  silver. 

‘Wondrous  as  a dream  is  this,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘for  these 
twain  I remember  well,  and  what  followed.’ 

She  said : ‘ I will  tell  thee  that.  There  came  a man  of  the  Shep- 
herd-Folk, drunk  or  foolish,  or  both,  who  began  to  chaffer  with  the 
big  carle  ; but  ever  on  the  queen  were  his  eyes  set,  and  presently 
he  put  forth  his  hand  to  her  to  clip  her,  whereon  the  big  carle 
hove  up  his  fist  and  smote  him,  so  that  he  fell  to  earth  noseling. 
Then  ran  the  folk  together  to  hale  off  the  stranger  and  help  the 
shepherd,  and  it  was  like  that  the  stranger  should  be  mishandled. 
Then  there  thrust  through  the  press  a young  man  with  yellow 
hair  and  grey  eyes,  who  cried  out,  “ Fellows,  let  be ! The 
stranger  had  the  right  of  it ; this  is  no  matter  to  make  a quarrel 
or  a court  case  of.  Let  the  market  go  on  ! This  man  and  maid 
are  true  folk.”  So  when  the  folk  heard  the  young  man  and  his  bid- 
ding, they  forebore  and  let  the  carle  and  the  queen  be,  and  the  shep- 
herd went  his  ways  little  hurt . Now  then,  who  was  this  young  man  ? ’ 
Quoth  Gold-mane : ‘ It  was  even  I,  and  meseemeth  it  was  no 
great  deed  to  do.’ 

‘Yea,’  she  said,  ‘and  the  big  carle  was  my  brother,  and  the 
tall  queen,  it  was  myself.’ 


54 


‘ How  then,’  said  he,  ‘ for  she  was  as  dark-skinned  as  a dwarf,  Face-of-god 
and  thou  so  bright  and  fair?’  must  depart. 

She  said  : ‘ Well,  if  the  woods  are  good  for  nothing  else,  yet 
are  they  good  for  the  growing  of  herbs,  and  I know  the  craft  of 
simpling  ; and  with  one  of  these  herbs  had  I stained  my  skin  and 
my  brother’s  also.  And  it  showed  the  darker  beneath  the  white  coif.’ 

‘ Yea,’  said  he,  ‘but  why  must  ye  needs  fare  in  feigned  shapes  ? 

Ye  would  have  been  welcome  guests  in  the  Dale  howsoever  ye 
had  come.’ 

^ I may  not  tell  thee  hereof  as  now,’  said  she. 

Said  Gold-mane  : ‘Yet  thou  mayst  belike  tell  me  wherefore 
it  was  that  thy  brother  desired  to  slay  me  yesterday,  if  he  knew 
me,  who  I was.’ 

‘Gold-mane,'  she  said,  ‘ thou  art  not  slain,  so  little  story  need 
be  made  of  that : for  the  rest,  belike  he  knew  thee  not  at  that 
moment.  So  it  falls  with  us,  that  we  look  to  see  foes  rather  than 
friends  in  the  wild-woods.  Many  uncouth  things  are  therein. 

Moreover,  I must  tell  thee  of  my  brother  that  whiles  he  is  as  the 
stalled  bull  late  let  loose,  and  nothing  is  good  to  him  save  battle 
and  onset ; and  then  is  he  blind  and  knows  not  friend  from  foe.’ 

Said  Face-of-god  : ‘ Thou  hast  asked  of  me  and  mine;  wilt 
thou  not  tell  me  of  thee  and  thine  ? ’ 

‘ Nay,’  she  said,  ‘ not  as  now ; thou  must  betake  thee  to  the 
way.  Whither wert  thou  wending  when  thou  happenedst  upon  us  ? ’ 

He  said  : ‘ I know  not ; I was  seeking  something,  but  I knew 
not  what — meseemeth  that  now  I have  found  it.’ 

‘ Art  thou  for  the  great  mountains  seeking  gems  ? ’ she  said. 

‘Yet  go  not  thither  to-day  : for  who  knoweth  what  thou  shalt 
meet  there  that  shall  be  thy  foe  ? ’ 

He  said  : ‘ Nay,  nay ; I have  nought  to  do  but  to  abide  here  as 
long  as  I may,  looking  upon  thee  and  hearkening  to  thy  voice.’ 

Her  eyes  were  upon  his,  but  yet  she  did  not  seem  to  see  him, 
and  for  a while  she  answered  not ; and  still  he  wondered  that  mere 
words  should  come  from  so  fair  a thing ; for  whether  she  moved 

55 


The  meeting 
to  be. 


foot,  or  hand,  or  knee,  or  turned  this  way  or  that,  each  time  she 
stirred  it  was  a caress  to  his  very  heart. 

He  spake  again  : ‘ May  I not  abide  here  a while  ? What 
scathe  may  be  in  that  ? ’ 

‘ It  is  not  so,’  she  said ; ‘ thou  must  depart,  and  that  straight- 
way : lo,  there  lieth  thy  spear  which  the  Wood-mother  hath 
brought  in  from  the  waste.  Take  thy  gear  to  thee  and  wend  thy 
ways.  Have  patience ! I will  lead  thee  to  the  place  where  we 
first  met  and  there  give  thee  farewell.’ 

Therewith  she  arose  and  he  also  perforce,  and  when  they  came 
to  the  doorway  she  stepped  across  the  threshold  and  then  turned 
back  and  gave  him  her  hand  and  so  led  him  forth,  the  sun  flashing 
back  from  her  golden  raiment.  Together  they  went  over  the  short 
grey  grass  of  that  hill-side  till  they  came  to  the  place  where  he 
had  arisen  from  that  wrestle  with  her  brother.  There  she  stayed 
him  and  said  : 

‘ This  is  the  place  ; here  must  we  part.’ 

But  his  heart  failed  him  and  he  faltered  in  his  speech  as  he  said : 

‘ When  shall  I see  thee  again  ? Wilt  thou  slay  me  if  I seek 
to  thee  hither  once  more  ? ’ 

‘ Hearken,’  she  said,  ‘ autumn  is  now  a-dying  into  winter : let 
winter  and  its  snows  go  past:  nor  seek  tome  hither;  for  me  thou 
should’st  not  find,  but  thy  death  thou  mightest  well  fall  in  with; 
and  I would  not  that  thou  shouldest  die.  When  winter  is  gone, 
and  spring  is  on  the  land,  if  thou  hast  not  forgotten  us  thou  shalt 
meet  us  again.  Yet  shalt  thou  go  further  than  this  Woodland 
Hall.  In  Shadowy  Vale  shalt  thou  seek  to  me  then,  and  there 
will  I talk  with  thee.’ 

‘ And  where,’  said  he,  Ms  Shadowy  Vale?  for  thereof  have  I 
never  heard  tell.’ 

She  said : ‘ The  token  when  it  cometh  to  thee  shall  show  thee 
thereof  and  the  way  thither.  Art  thou  a babbler.  Gold-mane?’ 

He  said  : ‘ I have  won  no  prize  for  babbling  hitherto.’ 

She  said:  ‘ If  thou  listest  to  babble  concerning  what  hath  be- 

56 


fallen  thee  on  the  Mountain,  so  do,  and  repent  it  once  only,  that 
is,  thy  life  long.’ 

‘ Why  should  I say  any  word  thereof?  ’ said  he.  ^ Dost  thou 
not  know  the  sweetness  of  such  a tale  untold  ? ’ 

He  spake  as  one  who  is  somewhat  wrathful,  and  she  answered 
humbly  and  kindly : 

‘ Well  is  that.  Bide  thou  the  token  that  shall  lead  thee  to 
Shadowy  Vale.  Farewell  now.’ 

She  drew  her  hand  from  his,  and  turned  and  went  her  ways 
swiftly  to  the  house : he  could  not  choose  but  gaze  on  her  as  she 
went  glittering-bright  and  fair  in  that  grey  place  of  the  moun- 
tains, till  the  dark  doorway  swallowed  up  her  beauty.  Then  he 
turned  away  and  took  the  path  through  the  pine-woods,  mut- 
tering to  himself  as  he  went : 

‘ What  thing  have  I done  now  that  hitherto  I had  not  done  ? 
What  manner  of  man  am  I to-day  other  than  the  man  I was 
yesterday?  ’ 


CHAPTER  VIII.  FACE-OF-GOD  COMETH  HOME  AGAIN 
TO  BURGSTEAD. 

FACE-OF-GOD  went  back  through  the  wood  by  the  way 
he  had  come,  paying  little  heed  to  the  things  about  him. 
For  whatever  he  thought  of  strayed  not  one  whit  from  the 
image  of  the  Fair  Woman  of  the  Mountain-side. 

He  went  through  the  wood  swiftlier  than  yesterday,  and  made 
no  stay  for  noon  or  aught  else,  nor  did  he  linger  on  the  road 
when  he  was  come  into  the  Dale,  either  to  speak  to  any  or  to 
note  what  they  did.  So  he  came  to  the  House  of  the  Face  about 
dusk,  and  found  no  man  within  the  hall  either  carle  or  queen.  So 
he  cried  out  on  the  folk,  and  there  came  in  a damsel  of  the  house, 
whom  he  greeted  kindly  and  she  him  again.  He  bade  her  bring 
the  washing-water,  and  she  did  so  and  washed  his  feet  and  his 

57  I 


The  woman 
goeth  into 
the  house. 


Face-of-god  hands.  She  was  a fair  maid  enough,  as  were  most  in  the  Dale, 
in  gay  attire,  but  he  heeded  her  little  ; and  when  she  was  done  he  kissed  not 
her  cheek  for  her  pains,  as  his  wont  was,  but  let  her  go  her  ways 
unthanked.  But  he  went  to  his  shut-bed  and  opened  his  chest, 
and  drew  fair  raiment  from  it,  and  did  off  his  wood-gear,  and  did 
on  him  a goodly  scarlet  kirtle  fairly  broidered,  and  a collar  with 
gems  of  price  therein,  and  other  braveries.  And  when  he  was  so 
attired  he  came  out  into  the  hall,  and  there  was  old  Stone-face 
standing  by  the  hearth,  which  was  blazing  brightly  with  fresh 
brands,  so  that  things  were  clear  to  see. 

Stone-face  noted  Gold-mane’s  gay  raiment,  for  he  was  not  wont 
to  wear  such  attire,  save  on  the  feasts  and  high  days  when  he 
behoved  to.  So  the  old  man  smiled  and  said  : 

‘ Welcome  back  from  the  Wood ! But  what  is  it  ? Hast  thou 
been  wedded  there,  or  who  hath  made  thee  Earl  and  King  ? ’ 
Said  Face-of-god  : ^ Foster-father,  sooth  it  is  that  I have  been 
to  the  wood,  but  there  have  I seen  nought  of  manfolk  worse  than 
myself.  Now  as  to  my  raiment,  needs  must  I keep  it  from  the  moth. 
And  I am  weary  withal,  and  this  kirtle  is  light  and  easy  to  me. 
Moreover,  I look  to  see  the  Bride  here  again,  and  I would  pleasure 
her  with  the  sight  of  gay  raiment  upon  me.^ 

‘ Nay,’  said  Stone-face,  ^ hast  thou  not  seen  some  woman  in  the 
wood  arrayed  like  the  image  of  a God  ? and  hath  she  not  bidden 
thee  thus  to  worship  her  to-night  ? For  I know  that  such  wights 
be  in  the  wood,  and  that  such  is  their  wont.’ 

Said  Gold-mane  : ‘ I worship  nought  save  the  Gods  and  the 
Fathers.  Nor  saw  I in  the  wood  any  such  as  thou  sayest.’ 
Therewith  Stone-face  shook  his  head ; but  after  a while  he  said : 
* Art  thou  for  the  wood  to-morrow  ?’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  Gold-mane  angrily,  knitting  his  brows. 

‘ The  morrow  of  to-morrow,’  said  Stone-face,  ‘ is  the  day  when 
we  look  to  see  the  Westland  merchants  : after  all,  wilt  thou  not 
go  hence  with  them  when  they  wend  their  ways  back  before  the 
first  snows  fall  ? ’ 


58 


‘ Nay/  said  he,  ‘ I have  no  mind  to  it,  fosterer ; cease  egging 
me  on  hereto.’ 

Then  Stone-face  shook  his  head  again,  and  looked  on  liim  long, 
and  muttered : ‘ To  the  wood  wilt  thou  go  to-morrow  or  next  day ; 
or  some  day  when  doomed  is  thine  undoing.’ 

Therewith  entered  the  service  and  torches,  and  presently  after 
came  the  Alderman  with  Hall-face ; and  Iron-face  greeted  his  son 
and  said  to  him  : ‘ Thou  hast  not  hit  the  time  to  do  on  thy  gay 
raiment,  for  the  Bride  will  not  be  here  to-night ; she  bideth  still 
at  the  Feast  at  the  Apple-tree  House : or  wilt  thou  be  there,  son?’ 
^Nay,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ I am  over-weary.  And  as  for  my  rai- 
ment, it  is  well;  it  is  for  thine  honour  and  the  honour  of  the  name.’ 
So  to  table  they  went,  and  Iron-face  asked  his  son  of  his  ways 
again,  and  whether  he  was  quite  fixed  in  his  mind  not  to  go  down 
to  the  Plain  and  the  Cities  : ‘ For,’  said  he,  ‘ the  morrow  of  to- 
morrow shall  the  merchants  be  here,  and  this  were  great  news  for 
them  if  the  son  of  the  Alderman  should  be  their  faring-fellowback.’ 
But  Face-of-god  answered  without  any  haste  or  heat : ^ Nay, 
father,  it  may  not  be  : fear  not,  thou  shalt  see  that  I have  a good 
will  to  work  and  live  in  the  Dale.’ 

And  in  good  sooth,  though  he  was  a young  man  and  loved 
mirth  and  the  ways  of  his  own  will,  he  was  a stalwarth  workman, 
and  few  could  mow  a match  with  him  in  the  hay-month  and  win 
it;  or  fell  trees  as  certainly  and  swiftly,  or  drive  as  straight  and 
clean  a furrow  through  the  stiff  land  of  the  lower  Dale  ; and  in 
other  matters  also  was  he  deft  and  sturdy. 


CHAPTER  IX.  THOSE  BRETHREN  FARE  TO  THE  YEW- 
WOOD  WITH  THE  BRIDE. 

Next  morning  Face-of-god  dight  himself  for  work,  and 
took  his  axe ; for  his  brother  Hall-face  had  bidden  him 
go  down  with  him  to  the  Yew- wood  and  cut  timber  there, 
59 


They  will 
have  him  go 
to  the  Cities. 


On  the  road 
to  the  Yew- 
wood. 


since  he  of  all  men  knew  where  to  go  straight  to  the  sticks  that 
would  quarter  best  for  bow-staves;  whereas  the  Alderman  had  the 
right  of  hewing  in  that  wood.  So  they  went  forth,  those  brethren, 
from  the  House  of  the  Face,  but  when  they  were  gotten  to  the 
gate,  who  should  be  there  but  the  Bride  awaiting  them,  and  she 
with  an  ass  duly  saddled  for  bearing  the  yew-sticks.  Because 
Hall-face  had  told  her  that  he  and  belike  Gold-mane  were  going 
to  hew  in  the  wood,  and  she  thought  it  good  to  be  of  the  company, 
as  oft  had  befallen  erst.  When  they  met  she  greeted  Face-of-god 
and  kissed  him  as  her  wont  was;  and  he  looked  upon  her  and  saw 
how  fair  she  was,  and  how  kind  and  friendly  were  her  eyes  that 
beheld  him,  and  how  her  whole  face  was  eager  for  him  as  their 
lips  parted.  Then  his  heart  failed  him,  when  he  knew  that  he 
no  longer  desired  her  as  she  did  him,  and  he  said  within  himself : 
‘ Would  that  she  had  been  of  our  nighest  kindred  ! Would  that 
I had  had  a sister  and  that  this  were  she  ! ’ 

So  the  three  went  along  the  highway  down  the  Dale,  and  Hall- 
face  and  the  Bride  talked  merrily  together  and  laughed,  for  she 
was  happy,  since  she  knew  that  Gold-mane  had  been  to  the  wood 
and  was  back  safe  and  much  as  he  had  been  before.  So  indeed 
it  seemed  of  him  ; for  though  at  first  he  was  moody  and  of  few 
words,  yet  presently  he  cursed  himself  for  a mar-sport,  and  so  fell 
into  the  talk,  and  enforced  himself  to  be  merry ; and  soon  he  was 
so  indeed ; for  he  thought : ‘ She  drew  me  thither : she  hath  a deed 
for  me  to  do.  I shall  do  the  deed  and  have  my  reward.  Soon 
will  the  spring-tide  be  here,  and  I shall  be  a young  man  yet  when 
it  comes.’ 

So  came  they  to  the  place  where  he  had  met  the  three  maidens 
yesterday ; there  they  also  turned  from  the  highway ; and  as  they 
went  down  the  bent.  Gold-mane  could  not  but  turn  his  eyes  on  the 
beauty  of  the  Bride  and  the  lovely  ways  of  her  body  : but  pre- 
sently he  remembered  all  that  had  betid,  and  turned  away  again 
as  one  who  is  noting  what  it  behoves  him  not  to  note.  And  he 
said  to  himself : ^ Where  art  thou,  Gold-mane?  Whose  art  thou  ? 

6o 


Yea,  even  if  that  had  been  but  a dream  that  I have  dreamed,  yet  The  Bride 
would  that  this  fair  woman  were  my  sister ! ’ singeth. 

So  came  they  to  the  Yew-wood,  and  the  brethren  fell  to  work, 
and  the  Bride  with  them,  for  she  was  deft  with  the  axe  and  strong 
withal.  But  at  midday  they  rested  on  the  green  slope  without 
the  Yew- wood  ; and  they  ate  bread  and  flesh  and  onions  and 
apples,  and  drank  red  wine  of  the  Dale.  And  while  they  were 
resting  after  their  meat,  the^Bride  sang  to  them,  and  her  song  was 
a lay  of  time  past ; and  here  ye  have  somewhat  of  it : 


’Tis  over  the  hill  and  over  the  dale 
Men  ride  from  the  city  fast  and  far, 

If  they  may  have  a soothfast  tale. 

True  tidings  of  the  host  of  war. 

And  first  they  hap  on  men-at-arms. 

All  clad  in  steel  from  head  to  foot : 

Now  tell  true  tale  of  the  new-come  harms. 

And  the  gathered  hosts  of  the  mountain-root. 

Fair  sirs,  from  murder-carles  we  flee. 

Whose  fashion  is  as  the  mountain-trolls^ ; 

No  man  can  tell  how  many  they  be. 

And  the  voice  of  their  host  as  the  thunder  rolls. 

They  were  weary  men  at  the  ending  of  day. 

But  they  spurred  nor  stayed  for  longer  word. 

Now  ye,  O merchants,  whither  away  ? 

What  do  ye  there  with  the  helm  and  the  sword? 

O we  must  fight  for  life  and  gear. 

For  our  beasts  are  spent  and  our  wains  are  stayed, 

And  the  host  of  the  Mountain-men  draws  near. 
That  maketh  all  the  world  afraid. 

6i 


rhe  Bride 
singeth. 


They  left  the  chapmen  on  the  hill, 

And  through  the  eve  and  through  the  night 

They  rode  to  have  true  tidings  still, 

And  were  there  on  the  way  when  the  dawn  was  bright. 

O damsels  fair,  what  do  ye  then 
To  loiter  thus  upon  the  way, 

And  have  no  fear  of  the  Mountain-men, 

The  host  of  the  carles  that  strip  and  slay  ? 

O riders  weary  with  the  road, 

Come  eat  and  drink  on  the  grass  hereby ! 

And  lay  you  down  in  a fair  abode 

Till  the  midday  sun  is  broad  and  high ; 

Then  unto  you  shall  we  come  aback, 

And  lead  you  forth  to  the  Mountain-men, 

To  note  their  plenty  and  their  lack, 

And  have  true  tidings  there  and  then. 

’Tis  over  the  hill  and  over  the  dale 

They  ride  from  the  mountain  fast  and  far ; 

And  now  have  they  learned  a soothfast  tale. 

True  tidings  of  the  host  of  war. 

It  was  summer- tide  and  the  Month  of  Hay, 

And  men  and  maids  must  fare  afield  ; 

But  we  saw  the  place  were  the  bow-  staves  lay. 

And  the  hall  was  hung  with  spear  and  shield. 

When  the  moon  was  high  we  drank  in  the  hall. 

And  they  drank  to  the  guests  and  were  kind  and  blithe, 

And  they  said : Come  back  when  the  chestnuts  fall. 
And  the  wine-carts  wend  across  the  hythe. 

Come  oft  and  o’er  again,  they  said ; 

Wander  your  ways  ; but  we  abide 
62 


For  all  the  world  in  the  little  stead  ; 

For  wise  are  we,  though  the  world  be  wide. 

Yea,  come  in  arms  if  ye  will,  they  said  ; 

And  despite  your  host  shall  we  abide 
For  life  or  death  in  the  little  stead  ; 

For  wise  are  we,  though  the  world  be  wide. 

So  she  made  an  end  and  looked  at  the  fairness  of  the  dale  spread- 
ing wide  before  her,  and  a robin  came  nigh  from  out  of  a thornbush 
and  sung  his  song  also,  the  sweet  herald  of  coming  winter ; and  the 
lapwings  wheeled  about,  black  and  white,  above  the  meadow  by 
the  river,  sending  forth  their  wheedling  pipe  as  they  hung  above  the 
soft  turf. 

She  felt  the  brothers  near  her,  and  knew  their  friendliness  from 
of  old,  and  she  was  happy ; nor  had  she  looked  closer  at  Gold- 
mane  would  she  have  noted  any  change  in  him  belike;  for  the  meat 
and  the  good  wine,  and  the  fair  sunny  time,  and  the  Bride’s  sweet 
voice,  and  the  ancient  song  softened  his  heart  while  it  fed  the 
desire  therein. 

So  in  a while  they  arose  from  their  rest  and  did  what  was  left 
them  of  their  work,  and  so  went  back  to  Burgstead  through  the 
fair  afternoon ; by  seeming  all  three  in  all  content.  But  yet  Gold- 
mane,  as  from  time  to  time  he  looked  upon  ftie  Bride,  kept  saying 
to  himself : * O if  she  had  been  but  my  sister ! sweet  had  the  kin- 
ship been ! ’ 


CHAPTER  X.  NEW  TIDINGS  IN  THE  DALE. 

IT  was  three  days  thereafter  that  Gold-mane,  leading  an  ass, 
went  along  the  highway  to  fetch  home  certain  fleeces  which 
were  needed  for  the  house  from  a stead  a little  west  of  Wild- 
lake;  but  he  had  gone  scant  half  a mile  ere  he  fell  in  with  a 

63 


The  Bride  is 
happy. 


A throng  throng  of  folk  going  to  Burgstead.  They  were  of  the  Shep- 
vvith  trouble  herds they  had  weapons  with  them,  and  some  were  clad  in  coats 
in  the  midst,  fence.  They  went  along  making  a great  noise,  for  they  were 
all  talking  each  to  each  at  the  same  time,  and  seemed  very  hot 
and  eager  about  some  matter.  When  they  saw  Gold-mane  anigh, 
they  stopped,  and  the  throng  opened  as  if  to  let  him  into  their 
midmost ; so  he  mingled  with  them,  and  they  stood  in  a ring 
about  him  and  an  old  man  more  ill-favoured  than  it  was  the 
wont  of  the  Dalesmen  to  be. 

For  he  was  long,  stooping,  gaunt  and  spindle-shanked,  his 
hands  big  and  crippled  with  gout : his  cheeks  were  red  after  an 
old  man’s  fashion,  covered  with  a crimson  network  like  a pippin ; 
his  lips  thin  and  not  well  hiding  his  few  teeth ; his  nose  long  like 
a snipe’s  neb.  In  short,  a shame  and  a laughing-stock  to  the 
Folk,  and  a man  whom  the  kindreds  had  in  small  esteem,  and  that 
for  good  reasons. 

Face-of-god  knew  him  at  once  for  a notable  close-fist  and 
starve-all  fool  of  the  Shepherds  ; and  his  name  was  now  become 
Penny-thumb  the  Lean,  whatever  it  might  once  have  been. 

So  Face-of-god  greeted  all  men,  and  they  him  again ; and  he 
said : ‘ What  aileth  you,  neighbours  ? Your  weapons  are 
bare,  but  I see  not  that  they  be  bloody.  What  is  it,  good- 
man  Penny-thumb?’ 

Penny-thumb  did  but  groan  for  all  answer  ; but  a stout  carle 
who  stood  by  with  a broad  grin  on  his  face  answered  and  said  : 

‘ Face-of-god,  evil  tidings  be  abroad ; the  strong-thieves  of 
the  wood  are  astir ; and  some  deem  that  the  wood-wights  be 
helping  them.’ 

^ Yea,  and  what  is  the  deed  they  have  done  ? ’ said  Gold-mane. 

Said  the  carle  : ‘ Thou  knowest  Penny-thumb’s  abode  ?’ 

' ‘ Yea  surely,’  said  Face-of-god  ; ‘ fair  are  the  water-meadows 

about  it ; great  gain  of  cheese  can  be  gotten  thence.’ 

^ Hast  thou  been  within  the  house  ?’  said  the  carle. 

‘Nay,’  said  Gold-mane. 


64 


Then  spake  Penny-thumb  : ‘ Within  is  scant  gear  : we  gather  Ransacking 
for  others  to  scatter  ; we  make  meat  for  others’  mouths.’  a close-hst. 

The  carle  laughed : ‘ Sooth  is  that,’  said  he,  ‘ that  there  is 
little  gear  therein  now ; for  the  strong-thieves  have  voided  both 
hall  and  bower  and  byre.’ 

‘ And  when  was  that  ?’  said  Face-of-god. 

^ The  night  before  last  night,’  said  the  carle,  ‘the  door  was 
smitten  on,  and  when  none  answered  it  was  broken  down.’ 

‘ Yea,’  quoth  Penny-thumb,  ‘ a host  entered,  and  they  in  arms.’ 

‘No  host  was  within,’  said  the  carle,  ‘nought  but  Penny-thumb 
and  his  sister  and  his  sister’s  son,  and  three  carles  that  work  for 
him  ; and  one  of  them.  Rusty  to  wit,  was  the  worst  man  of  the 
hill-country.  These  then  the  host  whereof  the  goodman  telleth 
bound,  but  without  doing  them  any  scathe  ; and  they  ransacked 
the  house,  and  took  away  much  gear ; yet  left  some.’ 

‘Thouliest,’  said  Penny-thumb;  ‘they  took  little  and  leftnone.’ 

Thereat  all  men  laughed,  for  this  seemed  to  them  good  game, 
and  another  man  said  : ‘ Well,  neighbour  Penny-thumb,  if  it  was 
so  little,  thou  hast  done  unneighbourly  in  giving  us  such  a heap  of 
trouble  about  it.’ 

And  they  laughed  again,  but  the  first  carle  said  : ‘ True  it  is, 
goodman,  that  thou  wert  exceeding  eager  to  raise  the  hue  and  cry 
after  that  little  when  we  happed  upon  thee  and  thy  housemates 
bound  in  your  chairs  yesterday  morning.  Well,  Alderman’s  son, 
short  is  the  tale  to  tell : we  could  not  fail  to  follow  the  gear,  and 
the  slot  led  us  into  the  wood,  and  ill  is  the  going  there  for  us 
shepherds,  who  are  used  to  the  bare  downs,  save  Rusty,  who  was 
a good  woodsman  and  lifted  the  slot  for  us ; so  he  outwent  us 
all,  and  ran  out  of  sight  of  us,  so  presently  we  came  upon  him 
dead-slain,  with  the  manslayer’s  spear  in  his  breast.  What  then 
could  we  do  but  turn  back  again,  for  now  was  the  wood  blind 
now  Rusty  was  dead,  and  we  knew  not  whither  to  follow  the 
fray ; and  the  man  himself  was  but  little  loss  : so  back  we  turned, 
and  told  goodman  Penny-thumb  of  all  this,  for  wc  had  left  him 

6s  K 


A spear  not 
wrought  in 
the  Dale. 


alone  in  his  hall  lamenting  his  gear ; so  we  bided  to-day’s  morn, 
and  have  come  out  now,  with  our  neighbour  and  the  spear,  and 
the  dead  corpse  of  Rusty.  Stand  aside,  neighbours,  and  let  the 
Alderman’s  son  see  it.’ 

They  did  so,  and  there  was  the  corpse  of  a thin-faced  tall 
wiry  man,  somewhat  foxy  of  aspect,  lying  on  a hand-bier  covered 
with  black  cloth. 

‘Yea,  Face-of-god,’  said  the  carle,  ‘he  is  not  good  to  see  now 
he  is  dead,  yet  alive  was  he  worser  : but,  look  you,  though  the  man 
was  no  good  man,  yet  was  he  of  our  people,  and  the  feud  is  with  us ; 
so  we  would  see  the  Alderman,  and  do  him  to  wit  of  the  tidings, 
that  he  may  call  the  neighbours  together  to  seek  a blood-wite  for 
Rusty  and  atonement  for  the  ransacking.  Or  what  sayest  thou  ? ’ 

‘ Have  ye  the  spear  that  ye  found  in  Rusty?’  quoth  Gold-mane. 

‘ Yea  verily,’  said  the  carle.  ‘ Hither  with  it,  neighbours ; give 
it  to  the  Alderman’s  son.’ 

So  the  spear  came  into  his  hand,  and  he  looked  at  it  and  said : 
‘ This  is  no  spear  of  the  smiths’  work  of  the  Dale,  as  my  father 
will  tell  you.  We  take  but  little  keep  of  the  forging  of  spear- 
heads here,  so  that  they  be  well-tempered  and  made  so  as  to  ride 
well  on  the  shaft ; but  this  head,  daintily  is  it  wrought,  the  blood- 
trench  as  clean  and  trim  as  though  it  were  an  Earl’s  sword.  See 
you  withal  this  inlaying  of  runes  on  the  steel  ? It  is  done  with 
no  tin  or  copper,  but  with  very  silver ; and  these  bands  about  the 
shaft  be  of  silver  also.  It  is  a fair  weapon,  and  the  owner  hath 
a loss  of  it  greater  than  his  gain  in  the  slaying  of  Rusty ; and  he 
will  have  left  it  in  the  wound  so  that  he  might  be  known  here- 
after, and  that  he  might  be  said  not  to  have  murdered  Rusty  but 
to  have  slain  him.  Or  how  think  ye  ? ’ 

They  all  said  that  this  seemed  like  to  be ; but  that  if  the  man 
who  had  slain  Rusty  were  one  of  the  ransackers  they  might  have 
a blood-wite  of  him,  if  they  could  find  him.  Gold-mane  said  that 
so  it  was,  and  therewithal  he  gave  the  shepherds  good-speed  and 
went  on  his  way. 


66 


But  they  came  to  Burgstead  and  found  the  Alderman,  and  in  A court  hdd, 
due  time  was  a Court  held,  and  a finding  uttered,  and  outlawry 
given  forth  for  the  manslaying  and  the  ransacking  against  certain 
men  unknown.  As  for  the  spear,  it  was  laid  up  in  the  House  of 
the  Face. 

But  Face-of-god  pondered  these  matters  in  his  mind,  for  such 
ransackings  there  had  been  none  of  in  late  years ; and  he  said  to 
himself  that  his  friends  of  the  Mountain  must  have  other  folk, 
of  which  the  Dalesmen  knew  nought,  whose  gear  they  could  lift, 
or  how  could  they  live  in  that  place.  And  he  marvelled  that  they 
should  risk  drawing  the  Dalesmen’s  wrath  upon  them;  whereas 
they  of  the  Dale  were  strong  men  not  easily  daunted,  albeit 
peaceable  enough  if  not  stirred  to  wrath.  For  in  good  sooth  he  had 
no  doubt  concerning  that  spear,  whose  it  was  and  whence  it  came : 
for  that  very  weapon  had  been  leaning  against  the  panel  of  his  shut- 
bed  the  night  he  slept  on  the  Mountain,  and  all  the  other  spears 
that  he  saw  there  were  more  or  less  of  the  same  fashion,  and 
adorned  with  silver. 

Albeit  all  that  he  knew,  and  all  that  he  thought  of,  he  kept  in 
his  own  heart  and  said  nothing  of  it. 

So  wore  the  autumn  into  early  winter ; and  the  Westland  mer- 
chants came  in  due  time,  and  departed  without  Face-of-god, 
though  his  father  made  him  that  offer  one  last  time.  He  went  to 
and  fro  about  his  work  in  the  Dale,  and  seemed  to  most  men’s  eyes 
nought  changed  from  what  he  had  been.  But  the  Bride  noted 
that  he  saw  her  less  often  than  his  wont  was,  and  abode  with  her 
a lesser  space  when  he  met  her;  and  she  could  not  think  what  this 
might  mean;  nor  had  she  heart  to  ask  him  thereof,  though  she 
was  sorry  and  grieved,  but  rather  withdrew  her  company  from 
him  somewhat;  and  when  she  perceived  that  he  noted  knot,  and 
made  no  question  of  it,  then  was  she  the  sorrier. 

But  the  first  winter -snow  came  on  with  a great  storm  of  wind 
from  the  north-east,  so  that  no  man  stirred  abroad  who  was  not 
compelled  thereto,  and  those  who  went  abroad  risked  life  and  limb 

67 


The  cowers 
cowed. 


thereby.  Next  morning  all  was  calm  again,  and  the  snow  was 
deep,  but  it  did  not  endure  long,  for  the  wind  shifted  to  the  south- 
west and  the  thaw  came,  and  three  days  after,  when  folk  could 
fare  easily  again  up  and  down  the  Dale,  came  tidings  to  Burgstead 
and  the  Alderman  from  the  Lower  Dale,  how  a house  called 
Greentofts  had  been  ransacked  there,  and  none  knew  by  whom. 
Now  the  goodman  of  Greentofts  was  little  loved  of  the  neighbours: 
he  was  grasping  and  overbearing,  and  had  often  cowed  others  out 
of  their  due  : he  was  very  cross-grained,  both  at  home  and  abroad : 
his  wife  had  fled  from  his  hand,  neither  did  his  sons  find  it  good 
to  abide  with  him  : therewithal  he  was  wealthy  of  goods,  a strong 
man  and  a deft  man-at-arms.  When  his  sons  and  his  wife  de- 
parted from  him,  and  none  other  of  the  Dalesmen  cared  to  abide 
with  him,  he  went  down  into  the  Plain,  and  got  thence  men  to  be 
with  him  for  hire,  men  who  were  not  well  seen  to  in  their  own 
land.  These  to  the  number  of  twelve  abode  with  him,  and  did 
his  bidding  whenso  it  pleased  them.  Two  more  had  he  had  who 
had  been  slain  by  good  men  of  the  Dale  for  their  masterful  ways ; 
and  no  blood-wite  had  been  paid  for  them,  because  of  their  ill- 
doings,  though  they  had  not  been  made  outlaws.  This  man  of 
Greentofts  was  called  Harts-bane  after  his  father,  who  was  a 
great  hunter. 

Now  the  full  tidings  of  the  ransacking  were  these : The  storm 
began  two  hours  before  sunset,  and  an  hour  thereafter,  when  it 
was  quite  dark,  for  without  none  could  see  because  the  wind  was 
at  its  height  and  the  drift  of  the  snow  was  hard  and  full,  the  hall- 
door  flew  open  ; and  at  first  men  thought  it  had  been  the  wind, 
until  they  saw  in  the  dimness  (for  all  lights  but  the  fire  on  the 
hearth  had  been  quenched)  certain  things  tumbling  in  which  at 
first  they  deemed  were  wolves  ; but  when  they  took  swords  and 
staves  against  them,  lo  they  were  met  by  swords  and  axes,  and 
they  saw  that  the  seeming  wolves  were  men  with  wolf-skins  drawn 
over  them.  So  the  new-comers  cowed  them  that  they  threw  down 
their  weapons,  and  were  bound  in  their  places ; but  when  they 


were  bound,  and  had  had  time  to  note  who  the  ransackers  were,  Yule-tide  in 
they  saw  that  there  were  but  six  of  them  all  told,  who  had  cowed  Burgstead. 
and  bound  Harts-bane  and  his  twelve  masterful  men ; and  this 
they  deemed  a great  shaming  to  them,  as  might  well  be. 

So  then  the  stead  was  ransacked,  and  those  wolves  took  away 
what  they  would,  and  went  their  ways  through  the  fierce  storm, 
and  none  could  tell  whether  they  had  lived  or  died  in  it ; but  at 
least  neither  the  men  nor  their  prey  were  seen  again ; nor  did 
they  leave  any  slot,  for  next  morning  the  snow  lay  deep  over 
everything. 

No  doubt  had  Gold-mane  but  that  these  ransackers  were  his 
friends  of  the  Mountain ; but  he  held  his  peace,  abiding  till  the 
winter  should  be  over. 


CHAPTER  XI.  MEN  MAKE  OATH  AT  BURGSTEAD  ON 
THE  HOLY  BOAR. 

A WEEK  after  the  ransacking  at  Greentofts  the  snow  and 
the  winter  came  on  in  earnest,  and  all  the  Dale  lay  in  snow, 
and  men  went  on  skids  when  they  fared  up  and  down  the 
Dale  or  on  the  Mountain. 

All  was  now  tidingless  till  Yule  over,  and  in  Burgstead  was 
there  feasting  and  Joyance  enough  ; and  especially  at  the  House 
of  the  Face  was  high-tide  holden,  and  the  Alderman  and  his  sons 
and  Stone-face  and  all  the  kindred  and  all  their  men  sat  in 
glorious  attire  within  the  hall ; and  many  others  were  there  of 
the  best  of  the  kindreds  of  Burgstead  who  had  been  bidden. 

Face-of-god  sat  between  his  father  and  Stone-face;  and  he 
looked  up  and  down  the  tables  and  the  hall  and  saw  not  the 
Bride,  and  his  heart  misgave  him  because  she  was  not  there,  and 
he  wondered  what  had  befallen  and  if  she  were  sick  of  sorrow. 

But  Iron-face  beheld  him  how  he  gazed  about,  and  he  laughed; 
for  he  was  exceeding  merry  that  night  and  fared  as  a young  man. 

69 


High-tide^ii 
the  Hall  of 
the  Face. 


Then  he  said  to  his  son : ‘ Whom  seekest  thou,  son  ? is  there  some- 
one lacking  ? ’ 

Face-of“god  reddened  as  one  who  lies  unused  to  it,  and  said: 
‘Yea,  kinsman,  so  it  is  that  I was  seeking  the  Bride  my 
kinswoman.’ 

‘Nay,’ said  Iron-face,  ‘call  her  not  kinswoman  : therein  is  ill- 
luck,  lest  it  seem  that  thou  art  to  wed  one  too  nigh  thine  own 
blood.  Call  her  the  Bride  only  : to  thee  and  to  me  the  name  is 
good.  Well,  son,  desirest  thou  sorely  to  see  her  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,  yea,  surely,’  said  Face-of-god  ; but  his  eyes  went  all 
about  the  hall  still,  as  though  his  mind  strayed  from  the  place  and 
that  home  of  his. 

Said  Iron-face : ‘ Have  patience,  son,  thou  shalt  see  her  anon, 
and  that  in  such  guise  as  shall  please  thee.’ 

Therewithal  came  the  maidens  with  the  ewers  of  wine,  and 
they  filled  all  horns  and  beakers,  and  then  stood  by  the  endlong 
tables  on  either  side  laughing  and  talking  with  the  carles  and  the 
older  women ; and  the  hall  was  a fair  sight  to  see,  for  the  many 
candles  burned  bright  and  the  fire  on  the  hearth  flared  up,  and 
those  maids  were  clad  in  fair  raiment,  and  there  was  none  of  them 
but  was  comely,  and  some  were  fair,  and  some  very  fair : the  walls 
also  were  hung  with  goodly  pictured  cloths,  and  the  image  of  the 
God  of  the  Face  looked  down  smiling  terribly  from  the  gable-end 
above  the  high-seat. 

Thus  as  they  sat  the}^  heard  the  sound  of  a horn  winded  close 
outside  the  hall  door,  and  the  door  was  smitten  on.  Then  rose 
Iron-face  smiling  merrily,  and  cried  out : 

‘ Enter  ye,  whether  ye  be  friends  or  foes : for  if  ye  be  foemen, 
yet  shall  }"e  keep  the  holy  peace  of  Yule,  unless  ye  be  the  foes 
of  all  kindreds  and  nations,  and  then  shall  we  slay  you.’ 

Thereat  some  who  knew  what  was  toward  laughed ; but  Gold- 
mane,  who  had  been  away  from  Burgstead  some  days  past, 
marvelled  and  knit  his  brows,  and  let  his  right  hand  fall  on  his 
sword-hilt.  For  this  folk,  who  were  of  merry  ways,  were  wont 

70 


to  deal  diversely  with  the  Yule-tide  customs  in  the  manner  of 
shows  ; and  he  knew  not  that  this  was  one  of  them. 

Now  was  the  outer  door  thrown  open,  and  there  entered  seven 
men,  whereof  two  were  all-armed  in  bright  war-gear,  and  two 
bore  slug-horns,  and  two  bore  up  somewhat  on  a dish  covered 
over  with  a piece  of  rich  cloth,  and  the  seventh  stood  before  them 
all  wrapped  up  in  a dark  fur  mantle. 

Thus  they  stood  a moment ; and  when  he  saw  their  number, 
back  to  Gold-mane’s  heart  came  the  thought  of  those  folk  on  the 
Mountain : for  indeed  he  was  somewhat  out  of  himself  for  doubt 
and  longing,  else  would  he  have  deemed  that  all  this  was  but  a 
Yule-tide  play. 

Now  the  men  with  the  slug-horns  set  them  to  their  mouths  and 
blew  a long  blast;  while  the  first  of  the  new-comers  set  hand  to 
the  clasps  of  the  fur  cloak  and  let  it  fall  to  the  ground,  and  lo  ! 
a woman  exceeding  beauteous,  clad  in  glistering  raiment  of  gold 
and  fine  web ; her  hair  wreathed  with  bay,  and  in  her  hand  a 
naked  sword  with  goodly- wrought  golden  hilt  and  polished  blue- 
gleaming  blade. 

Face-of-god  started  up  in  his  seat,  and  stared  like  a man  new- 
wakened  from  a strange  dream : because  for  one  moment  he 
deemed  verily  that  it  was  the  Woman  of  the  Mountain  arrayed 
as  he  had  last  seen  her,  and  he  cried  aloud  ‘ The  Friend, 
the  Friend!’ 

His  father  brake  out  into  loud  laughter  thereat,  and  clapped 
his  son  on  the  shoulder  and  said : ‘Yea,  yea,  lad,  thou  mayst 
well  say  the  Friend  ; for  this  is  thine  old  playmate  whom  thou 
hast  been  looking  round  the  hall  for,  arrayed  this  eve  in  such 
fashion  as  is  meet  for  her  goodliness  and  her  worthiness.  Yea, 
this  is  the  Friend  indeed  ! ’ 

Then  waxed  Face-of-god  as  red  as  blood  for  shame,  and  he  sat 
him  down  in  his  place  again : for  now  he  wotted  what  was  to- 
ward, and  saw  that  this  fair  woman  was  the  Bride. 

But  Stone-face  from  the  other  side  looked  keenly  on  him. 

71 


A fair  woman 
in  the  Hall. 


The  Holy  Then  blew  the  horns  again,  and  the  Bride  stepped  daintily  up 

Boar  on  the  the  hall,  and  the  sweet  odour  of  her  raiment  went  from  her  about 
table.  fire-warmed  dwelling,  and  her  beauty  moved  all  hearts  with 

love.  So  stood  she  at  the  high-table  ; and  those  two  who  bore 
the  burden  set  it  down  thereon  and  drew  off  the  covering,  and  lo ! 
there  was  the  Holy  Boar  of  Yule  on  which  men  were  wont  to 
make  oath  of  deeds  that  they  would  do  in  the  coming  year,  ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  their  forefathers.  Then  the  Bride  laid 
the  goodly  sword  beside  the  dish,  and  then  went  round  the  table 
and  sat  down  betwixt  Face-of-god  and  Stone-face,  and  turned 
kindly  to  Gold-mane,  and  was  glad  ; for  now  was  his  fair  face 
as  its  wont  was  to  be.  He  in  turn  smiled  upon  her,  for  she  was 
fair  and  kind  and  his  fellow  for  many  a day. 

Now  the  men-at-arms  stood  each  side  the  Boar,  and  out  from 
them  on  each  side  stood  the  two  hornsmen  : then  these  blew  up 
again,  whereon  the  Alderman  stood  up  and  cried  : 

‘ Ye  sons  of  the  brave  who  have  any  deed  that  ye  may  be  de- 
sirous of  doing,  come  up,  come  lay  your  hand  on  the  sword,  and 
the  point  of  the  sword  to  the  Holy  Beast,  and  swear  the  oath  that 
lieth  on  your  hearts.’ 

Therewith  he  sat  down,  and  there  strode  a man  up  the  hall, 
strong-built  and  sturdy,  but  short  of  stature ; black-haired,  red- 
bearded,  and  ruddy-faced : and  he  stood  on  the  dais,  and  took  up 
the  sword  and  laid  its  point  on  the  Boar,  and  said : 

‘ I am  Bristler,  son  of  Brightling,  a man  of  the  Shepherds. 
Here  by  the  Holy  Boar  I swear  to  follow  up  the  ransackers  of 
Penny-thumb  and  the  slayers  of  Rusty.  And  I take  this  feud  upon 
me,  although  they  be  no  good  men,  because  I am  of  the  kin  and 
it  fallethto  me,  since  others  forbear;  and  when  the  Court  was  hal- 
lowed hereon  I was  away  out  of  the  Dale  and  the  Downs.  So 
help  me  the  Warrior,  and  the  God  of  the  Earth.’ 

Then  the  Alderman  nodded  his  head  to  him  kindly,  and 
reached  him  out  a cup  of  wine,  and  as  he  drank  there  went  up  a 
rumour  of  praise  from  the  hall ; and  men  said  that  his  oath  was 

72 


manly  and  that  he  was  like  to  keep  it;  for  he  was  a good  man- 
at-arms  and  a stout  heart. 

Then  came  up  three  men  of  the  Shepherds  and  two  of  the  Dale 
and  swore  to  help  Bristler  in  his  feud,  and  men  thought  it  well 
sworn. 

After  that  came  a braggart,  a man  very  gay  of  his  raiment, 
and  swore  with  many  words  that  if  he  lived  the  year  through  he 
would  be  a captain  over  the  men  of  the  Plain,  and  would  come 
back  again  with  many  gifts  for  his  friends  in  the  Dale.  This 
men  deemed  foolishly  sworn,  for  they  knew  the  man ; so  they 
jeered  at  him  and  laughed  as  he  went  back  to  his  place  ashamed. 

Then  swore  three  others  oaths  not  hard  to  be  kept,  and  men 
laughed  and  were  merry. 

At  last  uprose  the  Alderman,  and  said : * Kinsmen,  and  good 
fellows,  good  days  and  peaceable  are  in  the  Dale  as  now ; and  of 
such  days  little  is  the  story,  and  little  it  availeth  to  swear  a deed 
of  derring-do:  yet  three  things  I swear  by  this  Beast;  and  first 
to  gainsay  no  man’s  asking  if  I may  perform  it ; and  next  to  set 
right  above  law  and  mercy  above  custom ; and  lastly,  if  the  days 
change  and  war  cometh  to  us  or  we  go  to  meet  it,  I will  be  no 
backwarder  in  the  onset  than  three  fathoms  behind  the  foremost. 
So  help  me  the  Warrior,  and  the  God  of  the  Face  and  the  Holy 
Earth ! ’ 

Therewith  he  sat  down,  and  all  men  shouted  for  joy  of  him, 
and  said  that  it  was  most  like  that  he  would  keep  his  oath. 

Last  of  all  uprose  Face-of-god  and  took  up  the  sword  and  looked 
at  it;  and  so  bright  was  the  blade  that  he  saw  in  it  the  image  of 
the  golden  braveries  which  the  Bride  bore,  and  even  some  broken 
image  of  her  face.  Then  he  handled  the  hilt  and  laid  the  point 
on  the  Boar,  and  cried ; 

‘ Hereby  I swear  towed  the  fairest  woman  of  the  Earth  before 
the  year  is  worn  to  an  end ; and  that  whether  the  Dalesmen  gain- 
say me  or  the  men  beyond  the  Dale.  So  help  me  the  Warrior, 
and  the  God  of  the  Face  and  the  Holy  Earth ! ’ 

73 


Oaths  are 
sworn  upon 
the  Boar. 


L 


Stone-face 
forbodeth, 
A winter 
morning. 


Therewith  he  sat  down ; and  once  more  men  shouted  for  the 
love  of  him  and  of  the  Bride,  and  they  said  he  had  sworn  well 
and  like  a chieftain. 

But  the  Bride  noted  him  that  neither  were  his  eyes  nor  his  voice 
like  to  their  wont  as  he  swore,  for  she  knew  him  well ; and  thereat 
was  she  ill  at  ease,  for  now  whatever  was  new  in  him  was  to  her  a 
threat  of  evil  to  come. 

Stone-face  also  noted  him,  and  he  knew  the  young  man  better 
than  all  others  save  the  Bride,  and  he  saw  withal  that  she  was  ill- 
pleased,  and  he  said  to  himself : ‘ I will  speak  to  my  fosterling  to- 
morrow if  I may  find  him  alone.’ 

So  came  the  swearing  to  an  end,  and  they  fell  to  on  their  meat 
and  feasted  on  the  Boar  of  Atonement  after  they  had  duly  given 
the  Gods  their  due  share,  and  the  wine  went  about  the  hall  and 
men  were  merry  till  they  drank  the  parting  cup  and  fared  to  rest 
in  the  shut-beds,  and  whereso  else  they  might  in  the  Hall  and  the 
House,  for  there  were  many  men  there. 


CHAPTER  XII.  STONE-FACE  TELLETH  CONCERNING 
THE  WOOD-WIGHTS. 

Early  on  the  morrow  Gold-mane  arose  and  clad  himself 
and  went  out-a-doors  and  over  the  trodden  snow  on  to  the 
bridge  over  the  Weltering  Water,  and  there  betook  himself 
into  one  of  the  coins  of  safety  built  over  the  up-stream  piles  ; 
there  he  leaned  against  the  wall  and  turned  his  face  to  the  Thorp, 
and  fell  to  pondering  on  his  case.  And  first  he  thought  about  his 
oath,  and  how  that  he  had  sworn  to  wed  the  Mountain  Woman, 
although  his  kindred  and  her  kindred  should  gainsay  him,  yea  and 
herself  also.  Great  seemed  that  oath  to  him,  yet  at  that  moment 
he  wished  he  had  made  it  greater,  and  made  all  the  kindred,  j’ea 
and  the  Bride  herself,  sure  of  the  meaning  of  the  words  of  it : and 
he  deemed  himself  a dastard  that  he  had  not  done  so.  Then  he 

74 


looked  round  him  and  beheld  the  winter,  and  he  fell  into  mere 
longingthatthespringwere  come  and  the  token  from  the  Mountain. 
Things  seemed  too  hard  for  him  to  deal  with,  and  he  between  a 
mighty  folk  and  two  wayward  women;  and  he  went  nigh  to  wish 
that  he  had  taken  his  father’s  offer  and  gone  down  to  the  Cities ; 
and  even  had  he  met  his  bane  : well  were  that ! And,  as  young 
folk  will,  he  set  to  work  making  a picture  of  his  deeds  there,  had 
he  been  there.  He  showed  himself  the  stricken  fight  in  the  plain, 
and  the  press,  and  the  struggle,  and  the  breaking  of  the  serried 
band,  and  himself  amidst  the  ring  of  foemen  doing  most  valiantly, 
and  falling  there  at  last,  his  shield  o’er-heavy  with  the  weight  of 
foemen’s  spears  for  a man  to  uphold  it.  Then  the  victory  of  his 
folk  and  the  lamentation  and  praise  over  the  slain  man  of  the 
Mountain  Dales,  and  the  burial  of  the  valiant  warrior,  the  praising 
weeping  folk  meeting  him  at  the  City-gate,  laid  stark  and  cold  in 
his  arms  on  the  gold-hung  garlanded  bier. 

There  ended  his  dream,  and  he  laughed  aloud  and  said : ^ I 
am  a fool ! All  this  were  good  and  sweet  if  I should  see  it  my- 
self ; and  forsooth  that  is  how  I am  thinking  of  it,  as  if  I still 
alive  should  see  myself  dead  and  famous  ! ’ 

Then  he  turned  a little  and  looked  at  the  houses  of  the  Thorp 
lying  dark  about  the  snowy  ways  under  the  starlit  heavens  of  the 
winter  morning  : dark  they  were  indeed  and  grey,  save  where 
here  and  there  the  half-burned  Yule-fire  reddened  the  windows 
of  a hall,  or  where,  as  in  one  place,  the  candle  of  some  early  waker 
shone  white  in  a chamber  window.  There  was  scarce  a man 
astir,  he  deemed,  and  no  sound  reached  him  save  the  crowing  of 
the  cocks  muffled  by  their  houses,  and  a faint  sound  of  beasts  in 
the  byres. 

Thus  he  stood  a while,  his  thoughts  wandering  now,  till  pre- 
sently he  heard  footsteps  coming  his  way  down  the  street  and 
turned  toward  them,  and  lo  it  was  the  old  man  Stone-face.  He 
had  seen  Gold-mane  go  out,  and  had  risen  and  followed  him  that 
he  might  talk  with  him  apart.  Gold-mane  greeted  him  kindly, 

75 


Stone-face 

cometh. 


Tales  of  the 
wood. 


though,  sooth  to  sa}%  he  was  but  half  content  to  see  him ; since  he 
doubted,  what  was  verily  the  case,  that  his  foster-father  would 
give  him  many  words,  counselling  him  to  refrain  from  going  to 
the  wood,  and  this  was  loathsome  to  him ; but  he  spake  and  said : 

‘ Meseems,  father,  that  the  eastern  sky  is  brightening  toward 
dawn.’ 

‘ Yea,’  quoth  Stone-face. 

‘ It  will  be  light  in  an  hour,’  said  Face-of-god. 

‘ Even  so,’  said  Stone-face. 

‘And  a fair  day  for  the  morrow  of  Yule,’  said  the  swain. 
‘Yea,’  said  Stone-face,  ‘ and  what  wilt  thou  do  with  the  fair 
day  ? Wilt  thou  to  the  wood  ? ’ 

‘ Maybe,  father,’  said  Gold-mane ; ‘ Hall-face  and  some  of 
the  swains  are  talking  of  elks  up  the  fells  which  may  be  trapped 
in  the  drifts,  and  if  they  go  a-hunting  them,  I may  go  in 
their  company.’ 

‘ Ah,  son,’  quoth  Stone-face,  ‘ thou  wilt  look  to  see  other  kind 
of  beasts  than  elks.  Things  may  ye  fall  in  with  there  who  may 
not  be  impounded  in  the  snow  like  to  elks,  but  can  go  light-foot 
on  the  top  of  the  soft  drift  from  one  place  to  another.’ 

Said  Gold' mane  : ‘Father,  fear  me  not;  I shall  either  refrain 
me  from  the  wood,  or  if  I go,  I shall  go  to  hunt  the  wood-deer 
with  other  hunters.  But  since  thou  hast  come  to  me,  tell  me  more 
about  the  wood,  for  thy  tales  thereof  are  fair.’ 

‘Yea,’  said  Stone-face,  ‘ fair  tales  of  foul  things,  as  oft  it  be- 
falleth  in  the  world . Hearken  now ! if  thou  deemest  that  what  thou 
seekest  shall  come  readier  to  thine  hand  because  of  the  winter  and 
the  snow,  thou  errest.  For  the  wights  that  waylay  the  bodies  and 
souls  of  the  mighty  in  the  wild-wood  heed  such  matters  nothing  ; 
yea  and  at  Yule-tide  are  they  most  abroad,  and  most  armed  for 
the  fray.  Even  such  an  one  have  I seen  time  agone,  when  the 
snow  was  deep  and  the  wind  was  rough ; and  it  was  in  the  like- 
ness of  a woman  clad  in  such  raiment  as  the  Bride  bore  last  night, 
and  she  trod  the  snow  light-foot  in  thin  raiment  where  it  would 

76 


scarce  bear  the  skids  of  a deft  snow-runner.  Even  so  she  stood 
before  me  ; the  icy  wind  blew  her  raiment  round  about  her,  and 
drifted  the  hair  from  her  garlanded  head  toward  me,  and  she  as 
fair  and  fresh  as  in  the  midsummer  days.  Up  the  fell  she  fared, 
sweetest  of  all  things  to  look  on,  and  beckoned  on  me  to  follow ; 
on  me,  the  Warrior,  the  Stout-heart ; and  I followed,  and  between 
us  grief  was  born ; but  I it  was  that  fostered  that  child  and  not 
she.  Always  when  she  would  be,  was  she  merry  and  lovely;  and 
even  so  is  she  now,  for  she  is  of  those  that  be  long-lived.  And 
I wot  that  thou  hast  seen  even  such  an  one  ! ’ 

‘Tell  me  more  of  thy  tales,  foster-father,’  said  Gold-mane, 
‘ and  fear  not  for  me  ! ’ 

‘ Ah,  son,’  he  said,  ‘ mayst  thou  have  no  such  tales  to  tell  to 
those  that  shall  be  young  when  thou  art  old.  Yet  hearken  ! We 
sat  in  the  hall  together  and  there  was  no  third  ; and  methought 
that  the  birds  sang  and  the  flowers  bloomed,  and  sweet  was  their 
savour,  though  it  was  mid-winter.  A rose-wreath  was  on  her 
head  ; grapes  were  on  the  board,  and  fair  unwrinkled  summer 
apples  on  the  day  that  we  feasted  together.  When  was  the  feast  ? 
sayst  thou.  Long  ago.  What  was  the  hall,  thou  sayest,  wherein 
ye  feasted  ? I know  not  if  it  were  on  the  earth  or  under  it,  or  if 
we  rode  the  clouds  that  even.  But  on  the  morrow  what  was  there 
but  the  stark  wood  and  the  drift  of  the  snow,  and  the  iron  wind 
howling  through  the  branches,  and  a lonely  man,  a wanderer  rising 
from  the  ground.  A wanderer  through  the  wood  and  up  the  fell, 
and  up  the  high  mountain,  and  up  and  up  to  the  edges  of  the  ice- 
river  and  the  green  caves  of  the  ice-hills.  A wanderer  in  spring, 
in  summer,  autumn  and  winter,  with  an  empty  heart  and  a burning 
never-satisfied  desire  ; who  hath  seen  in  the  uncouth  places  many 
an  evil  unmanly  shape,  many  a foul  hag  and  changing  ugly 
semblance ; who  hath  suffered  hunger  and  thirst  and  wounding 
and  fever,  and  hath  seen  many  things,  but  hath  never  again  seen 
that  fair  woman,  or  that  lovely  feast-hall. 

‘All  praise  and  honour  to  the  House  of  the  Face,  and  the 

77 


The  beguil' 
ing  of  a 
warrior. 


The  world 
awake. 


bounteous  valiant  men  thereof!  and  the  like  praise  and  honour 
to  the  fair  women  whom  they  wed  of  the  valiant  and  goodly 
House  of  the  Steer  I ’ 

‘Even  so  say  1/  quoth  Gold-mane  calmly;  ‘but  now  wend 
we  aback  to  the  House,  for  it  is  morning  indeed,  and  folk  will  be 
stirring  there.’ 

So  they  turned  from  the  bridge  together  ; and  Stone-face  was 
kind  and  fatherly,  and  was  telling  his  foster-son  many  wise 
things  concerning  the  life  of  a chieftain,  and  the  giving-out  of 
dooms  and  the  gathering  for  battle  ; to  all  which  talk  Face-of- 
god  seemed  to  hearken  gladly,  but  indeed  hearkened  not  at  all ; 
for  verily  his  eyes  were  beholding  that  snowy  waste,  and  the  fair 
woman  upon  it ; even  such  an  one  as  Stone-face  had  told  of. 


CHAPTER  XIII.  THEY  FARE  TO  THE  HUNTING  OF 
THE  ELK. 

WHEN  they  came  into  the  Hall,  the  hearth-fire  had  been 
quickened,  and  the  sleepers  on  the  floor  had  been 
wakened,  and  all  folk  were  astir.  So  the  old  man  sat 
down  by  the  hearth  while  Gold-mane  busied  himself  in  fetching 
wood  and  water,  and  in  sweeping  out  the  Hall,  and  other  such 
works  of  the  early  morning.  In  a little  while  Hall-face  and  the 
other  young  men  and  warriors  were  afoot  duly  clad,  and  the 
Alderman  came  from  his  chamber  and  greeted  all  men  kindly. 
Soon  meat  was  set  upon  the  boards,  and  men  broke  their  fast ; and 
day  dawned  while  they  were  about  it,  and  ere  it  was  all  done  the 
sun  rose  clear  and  golden,  so  that  all  men  knew  that  the  day 
would  be  fair,  for  the  frost  seemed  hard  and  enduring. 

Then  the  eager  young  men  and  the  hunters,  and  those  who 
knew  the  mountain  best  drew  together  about  the  hearth,  and  fell 
to  talking  of  the  hunting  of  the  elk ; and  there  were  three  there 
who  knew  both  the  woods  and  also  the  fells  right  up  to  the  ice- 

78 


rivers  better  than  any  other ; and  these  said  that  they  who  were  The  hunt 
fain  of  the  hunting  of  the  elk  would  have  no  likelier  time  than  is  up. 
that  day  for  a year  to  come.  Short  was  the  rede  betwixt  them, 
for  they  said  they  would  go  to  the  work  at  once  and  make  the 
most  of  the  short  winter  daylight.  So  they  went  each  to  his 
place,  and  some  outside  that  House  to  their  fathers’  houses  to 
fetch  each  man  his  gear.  Face-of-god  for  his  part  went  to  his 
shut-bed,  and  stood  by  his  chest,  and  opened  it,  and  drew  out  of 
it  a fine  hauberk  of  ring-mail  which  his  father  had  made  for  him  : 
for  though  Face-of-god  was  a deft  wright,  he  was  not  by  a long 
way  so  deft  as  his  father,  who  was  the  deftest  of  all  men  of  that 
time  and  country ; so  that  the  alien  merchants  would  give  him 
what  he  would  for  his  hauberks  and  helms,  whenso  he  would 
chaffer  with  them,  which  was  but  seldom.  So  Face-of-god  did 
on  this  hauberk  over  his  kirtle,  and  over  it  he  cast  his  foul- 
weather  weed,  so  that  none  might  see  it : he  girt  a strong  war- 
sword  to  his  side,  cast  his  quiver  over  his  shoulder,  and  took  his 
bow  in  his  hand,  although  he  had  little  lust  to  shoot  elks  that 
day,  even  as  Stone-face  had  said  ; therewithal  he  took  his  skids, 
and  went  forth  of  the  hall  to  the  gate  of  the  Burg ; whereto 
gathered  the  whole  company  of  twenty-three,  and  Gold-mane  the 
twenty-fourth.  And  each  man  there  had  his  skids  and  his  bow 
and  quiver,  and  whatso  other  weapon,  as  short-sword,  or  wood- 
knife,  or  axe,  seemed  good  to  him. 

So  they  went  out-a-gates,  and  clomb  the  stairway  in  the  cliff 
which  led  to  the  ancient  watch-tower : for  it  was  on  the  lower  slopes 
of  the  fells  which  lay  near  to  the  Weltering  Water  that  they 
looked  to  find  the  elks,  and  this  was  the  nighest  road  thereto. 

When  they  had  gotten  to  the  top  they  lost  no  time,  but  went 
their  ways  nearly  due  east,  making  way  easily  where  there  were 
but  scattered  trees  close  to  the  lip  of  the  sheer  cliffs. 

They  went  merrily  on  their  skids  over  the  close-lying  snow, 
and  were  soon  up  on  the  great  shoulders  of  the  fells  that  went  up 
from  the  bank  of  the  Weltering  Water  : at  noon  they  came  into 

79 


Face-of-god 

missing. 


a little  dale  wherein  were  a few  trees,  and  there  they  abided  to 
eat  their  meat,  and  were  very  merry,  making  for  themselves 
tables  and  benches  of  the  drifted  snow,  and  piling  it  up  to  wind- 
ward as  a defence  against  the  wind,  which  had  now  arisen,  little 
but  bitter  from  the  south-east ; so  that  some,  and  they  the  wisest, 
began  to  look  for  foul  weather  : wherefore  they  tarried  the  shorter 
while  in  the  said  dale  or  hollow. 

But  they  were  scarcely  on  their  way  again  before  the  aforesaid 
south-east  wind  began  to  grow  bigger,  and  at  last  blew  a gale, 
and  brought  up  with  it  a drift  of  fine  snow,  through  which  they  yet 
made  their  way,  but  slowly,  till  the  drift  grew  so  thick  that  they 
could  not  see  each  other  five  paces  apart. 

Then  perforce  they  made  stay,  and  gathered  together  under  a 
bent  which  by  good  luck  they  happened  upon,  where  they  were 
sheltered  from  the  worst  of  the  drift.  There  they  abode,  till  in 
less  than  an  hour’s  space  the  drift  abated  and  the  wind  fell,  and 
in  a little  while  after  it  was  quite  clear,  with  the  sun  shining 
brightly  and  the  young  waxing  moon  white  and  high  up  in  the 
heavens  ; and  the  frost  was  harder  than  ever. 

This  seemed  good  to  them  ; but  now  that  they  could  see  each 
other’s  faces  they  fell  to  telling  over  their  company,  and  there 
was  none  missing  save  Face-of-god.  They  were  somewhat  dis- 
mayed thereat,  but  knew  not  what  to  do,  and  they  deemed  he 
might  not  be  far  off*,  either  a little  behind  or  a little  ahead ; and 
Hall-face  said : 

‘ There  is  no  need  to  make  this  to-do  about  my  brother ; he 
can  take  good  care  of  himself ; neither  does  a warrior  of  the  Face 
die  because  of  a little  cold  and  frost  and  snow-drift.  Withal 
Gold-mane  is  a wilful  man,  and  of  late  days  hath  been  wilful 
beyond  his  wont ; let  us  now  find  the  elks.’ 

So  they  went  on  their  ways  hoping  to  fall  in  with  him  again. 
No  long  story  need  be  made  of  their  hunting,  for  not  very  far 
from  where  they  had  taken  shelter  they  came  upon  the  elks, 
many  of  them,  impounded  in  the  drifts,  pretty  much  where  the  deft 

8o 


hunters  looked  to  find  them.  There  then  was  battle  between  Face-of-god 

the  elks  and  the  men,  till  the  beasts  were  all  slain  and  only  one  first  home. 

man  hurt : then  they  made  them  sleighs  from  wood  which  they 

found  in  the  hollows  thereby,  and  they  laid  the  carcasses  thereon, 

and  so  turned  their  faces  homeward,  dragging  their  prey  with 

them.  But  they  met  not  Face-of-god  either  there  or  on  the  way 

home ; and  Hall-face  said  : ‘ Maybe  Gold-mane  will  lie  on  the 

fell  to-night ; and  I would  I were  with  him ; for  adventures  oft 

befall  such  folk  when  they  abide  in  the  wilds.’ 

Now  it  was  late  at  night  by  then  they  reached  Burgstead,  so 
laden  as  they  were  with  the  dead  beasts ; but  they  heeded  the  night 
little,  for  the  moon  was  well-nigh  as  bright  as  day  for  them. 

But  when  they  came  to  the  gate  of  the  Thorp,  there  were  assem- 
bled the  goodmen  and  swains  to  meet  them  with  torches  and 
wine  in  their  honour.  There  also  was  Gold-mane  come  back 
before  them,  yea  for  these  two  hours ; and  he  stood  clad  in  his 
holiday  raiment  and  smiled  on  them. 

Then  was  there  some  jeering  at  him  that  he  was  come  back 
empty-handed  from  the  hunting,  and  that  he  was  not  able  to 
abide  the  wind  and  the  drift ; but  he  laughed  thereat,  for  all  this 
was  but  game  and  play,  since  men  knew  him  for  a keen  hunter  and 
a stout  woodsman ; and  they  had  deemed  it  a heavy  loss  of  him  if  he 
had  been  cast  away,  as  some  feared  he  had  been  : and  his  brother 
Hall-face  embraced  him  and  kissed  him,  and  said  to  him  : ‘Now 
the  next  time  that  thou  farest  to  the  wood  will  I be  with  thee  foot  to 
foot,  and  never  leave  thee,  and  then  meseemeth  I shall  wot  of  the 
tale  that  hath  befallen  thee,  and  belike  it  shall  be  no  sorry  one.’ 

Face-of-god  laughed  and  answered  but  little,  and  they  all  betook 
them  to  the  House  of  the  Face  and  held  high  feast  therein,  for 
as  late  as  the  night  was,  in  honour  of  this  Hunting  of  the  Elk. 

No  man  cared  to  question  Face-of-god  closely  as  to  hov/  or 
where  he  had  strayed  from  the  hunt ; for  he  had  told  his  own  tale 
at  once  as  soon  as  he  came  home,  to  wit,  that  his  right-foot  skid- 
strap  had  broken,  and  even  while  he  stopped  to  mend  it  came  on 

8l  M 


The  true  tale 
of  Face-of- 
god. 


that  drift  and  weather ; and  that  he  could  not  move  from  that 
place  without  losing  his  way,  and  that  when  it  had  cleared  he 
knew  not  whither  they  had  gone  because  the  snow  had  covered 
their  slot.  So  he  deemed  it  not  unlike  that  they  had  gone  back, 
and  that  he  might  come  up  with  one  or  two  on  the  way,  and  that 
in  any  case  he  wotted  well  that  they  could  look  after  themselves ; 
so  he  turned  back,  not  going  ver}"  swiftly.  All  this  seemed  like 
enough,  and  a little  matter  except  to  jest  about,  so  no  man  made 
any  question  concerning  it : only  old  Stone-face  said  to  himself : 
* Now  were  I fain  to  have  a true  tale  out  of  him,  but  it  is  little 
likely  that  anything  shall  come  of  my  much  questioning  ; and  it  is 
ill  forcing  a young  man  to  tell  lies.’ 

So  he  held  his  peace,  and  the  feast  went  on  merrily  and  blithely. 


CHAPTER  XIV.  CONCERNING  FACE-OF-GOD  AND  THE 
MOUNTAIN. 

But  it  must  be  told  of  Gold-mane  that  what  had  befallen 
him  was  in  this  wise.  His  skid- strap  brake  in  good  sooth, 
and  he  stayed  to  mend  it ; but  when  he  had  done  what  was 
needful,  he  looked  up  and  saw  no  man  nigh,  what  for  the  drift, 
and  that  they  had  gone  on  somewhat ; so  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and 
without  more  delay,  instead  of  keeping  on  toward  the  elk-ground 
and  the  way  his  face  had  been  set,  he  turned  himself  north-and- 
by-east,  and  went  his  ways  swiftly  towards  that  airt,  because  he 
deemed  that  it  might  lead  him  to  the  Mountain-hall  where  he 
had  guested.  He  abode  not  for  the  storm  to  clear,  but  swept  off 
through  the  thick  of  it;  and  indeed  the  wind  was  somewhat  at  his 
back,  so  that  he  went  the  swiftlier.  But  when  the  drift  was  gotten 
to  its  very  worst,  he  sheltered  himself  for  a little  in  a hollow  be- 
hind a thorn-bush  he  stumbled  upon.  As  soon  as  it  began  to 
abate  he  went  on  again,  and  at  last  when  it  was  quite  clear,  and 
the  sun  shone  out,  he  found  himself  on  a long  slope  of  the  fells 

82 


covered  deep  with  smooth  white  snow,  and  at  the  higher  end  a 
great  crag  rising  bare  fifty  feet  above  the  snow,  and  more  rocks,  but 
none  so  great,  and  broken  ground  as  he  judged  (the  snow  being 
deep)  about  it  on  the  hither  side ; and  on  the  further,  three  great 
pine-treesall  bent  down  and  mingled  together  by  their  load  of  snow. 

Thitherward  he  made,  as  a man  might,  seeing  nothing  else  to 
note  before  him ; but  he  had  not  made  many  strides  when  forth 
from  behind  the  crag  by  the  pine-trees  came  a man ; and  at  first 
Face-of-god  thought  it  might  be  one  of  his  hunting-fellows  gone 
astray,  and  he  hailed  him  in  a loud  voice,  but  as  he  looked  he  saw 
the  sun  flash  back  from  a bright  helm  on  the  new-comer’s  head  ; 
albeit  he  kept  on  his  way  till  there  was  but  a space  of  two  hun- 
dred yards  between  them ; when  lo  ! the  helm-bearer  notched  a 
shaft  to  his  bent  bow  and  loosed  at  Face-of-god,  and  the  arrow 
came  whistling  and  passed  six  inches  by  his  right  ear.  Then 
Face-of-god  stopped  perplexed  with  his  case;  for  he  was  on  the 
deep  snow  in  his  skids,  with  his  bow  unbent,  and  he  knew  not  how 
to  bend  it  speedily.  He  was  loth  to  turn  his  back  and  flee,  and 
indeed  he  scarce  deemed  that  it  would  help  him.  Meanwhile  of 
his  tarrying  the  archer  loosed  again  at  him,  and  this  time  the  shaft 
flew  close  to  his  left  ear.  Then  Face-of-god  thought  to  cast  him- 
self down  into  the  snow,  but  he  was  ashamed;  till  there  came  a 
third  shaft  which  flew  over  his  head  amidmost  and  close  to  it. 

* Good  shooting  on  the  Mountain ! ’ muttered  he ; ‘ the  next  shaft 
will  be  amidst  my  breast,  and  who  knows  whether  the  Alder- 
man’s handiwork  will  keep  it  out.’  >> 

So  he  cried  aloud:  ‘Thou  shootest  well, brother;  but  art  thou 
a foe  ? If  thou  art,  I have  a sword  by  my  side,  and  so  hast  thou ; 
come  hither  to  me,  and  let  us  flight  it  oat  friendly  if  we  must 
needs  fight.’ 

A laugh  came  down  the  wind  to  him  clear  but  somewhat 
shrill,  and  the  archer  came  swiftly  towards  him  on  his  skids  with 
no  weapon  in  his  hand  save  his  bow ; so  that  Face-of-god  did  not 
draw  his  sword,  but  stood  wondering. 

83 


A deft  archer 
on  the  inoun- 
tain. 


One  from  the  As  they  drew  nearer  he  beheld  the  face  of  the  new-comer,  and 
Mountain-  deemed  that  he  had  seen  it  before  ; and  soon,  for  all  that  it  was 
hooded  close  by  the  ill-weather  raiment,  he  perceived  it  to  be  the 
face  of  Bow-may,  ruddy  and  smiling. 

She  laughed  out  loud  again,  as  she  stopped  herself  within  three 
feet  of  him,  and  said: 

‘ Yea,  friend  Yellow-hair,  we  heard  of  the  elks  and  looked  to 
see  thee  hereabouts,  and  I knew  thee  at  once  when  I came  out  from 
behind  the  crag  and  saw  thee  stand  bewildered.’ 

Said  Gold-mane  : ‘ Hail  to  thee.  Bow-may  ! and  glad  am  I 
to  see  thee.  But  thou  liest  in  saying  that  thou  knewest  me  ; else 
why  didst  thou  shoot  those  three  shafts  at  me  ? Surely  thou  art 
not  so  quick  as  that  with  all  thy  friends  : these  be  sharp  greetings 
of  you  Mountain-folk.’ 

‘ Thou  lad  with  the  sweet  mouth,’  she  said,  ‘ I like  to  see  thee 
and  hear  thee  talk,  but  now  must  I hasten  thy  departure ; so 
stand  we  here  no  longer.  Let  us  get  down  into  the  wood  where 
we  can  do  off  our  skids  and  sit  down,  and  then  will  I tell  thee 
the  tidings.  Come  on  ! ’ 

And  she  caught  his  hand  in  hers,  and  they  went  speedily 
down  the  slopes  toward  the  great  oak-wood,  the  wind  whistling 
past  their  ears. 

‘ Whither  are  we  going  ? ’ said  he. 

Said  she : ‘ I am  to  show  thee  the  way  back  home,  which  thou 
wilt  not  know  surely  amidst  this  snow.  Come,  no  words!  thou 
shalt  not  have  my  tale  from  me  till  we  are  in  the  wood  : so  the 
sooner  we  are  there  the  sooner  shalt  thou  be  pleased.’ 

So  Face-of-god  held  his  peace,  and  they  went  on  swiftly  side 
by  side.  But  it  was  not  Bow-may’s  wont  to  be  silent  for  long, 
so  presently  she  said  : 

‘Thou  art  good  to  do  as  I bid  thee;  but  see  thou,  sweet  play- 
mate, for  all  thou  art  a chieftain’s  son,  thou  wert  but  feather- 
brained to  ask  me  why  I shot  at  thee.  I shoot  at  thee!  that  were 
a fine  tale  to  tell  her  this  even!  Or  dost  thou  think  that  I could 

84 


shoot  at  a big  man  on  the  snow  at  two  hundred  paces  and  miss 
him  three  times?  Unless  I aimed  to  miss.’ 

‘Yea,  Bow-may,’  said  he,  ‘art  thou  so  deft  a Bow-may  ? Thou 
shalt  be  in  my  company  whenso  I fare  to  battle.’ 

‘ Indeed,’  she  said,  ‘ therein  thou  sayest  but  the  bare  truth  : 
nowhere  else  shall  I be,  and  thou  shalt  find  my  bow  no  worse  than 
a good  shield.’ 

He  laughed  somewhat  lightly;  but  she  looked  on  him  soberly 
and  said  : ‘ Laugh  in  that  fashion  on  the  day  of  battle,  and  we 
shall  be  well  content  with  thee  ! ’ 

So  on  they  sped  very  swiftly,  for  their  way  was  mostly  down 
hill,  so  that  they  were  soon  amongst  the  outskirting  trees  of  the 
wood,  and  presently  after  reached  the  edge  of  the  thicket,  beyond 
which  the  ground  was  but  thinly  covered  with  snow. 

There  they  took  off  their  skids,  and  went  into  the  thick  wood 
and  sat  down  under  a hornbeam  tree  ; and  ere  Gold-mane  could 
open  his  mouth  to  speak  Bow-may  began  and  said  : 

‘ Well  it  was  that  I fell  in  with  thee.  Dalesman,  else  had  there 
been  murders  of  men  to  tell  of ; but  ever  she  ordereth  all  things 
wisely,  though  unwisely  hast  thou  done  to  seek  to  her.  Hearken  ! 
dost  thou  think  that  thou  hast  done  well  that  thou  hast  me  here 
with  my  tale  ? Well,hadst  thou  busied  thyself  with  the  slaying 
of  elks,  or  with  sitting  quietly  at  home,  yet  shouldest  thou  have 
heard  my  tale,  and  thou  shouldest  have  seen  me  in  Burgstead  in 
a day  or  two  to  tell  thee  concerning  the  flitting  of  the  token.  And 
ill  it  is  that  I have  missed  it,  for  fain  had  I been  to  behold  the 
House  of  the  Face,  and  to  have  seen  thee  sitting  there  in  thy 
dignity  amidst  the  kindred  of  chieftains.’ 

And  she  sighed  therewith.  But  he  said  : ‘ Hold  up  thine  heart. 
Bow-may ! On  the  word  of  a true  man  that  shall  befall  thee  one 
day.  But  come,  playmate,  give  me  thy  tale ! ’ 

‘ Yea,’  she  said,  ‘ I must  now  tell  thee  in  the  wild-wood  what 
else  I had  told  thee  in  the  Hall.  Hearken  closely,  for  this  is  the 
message  : 


They  sit 
down  in  the 
wood. 


85 


A message 
from  the 
Mountain, 


^ i^eek  not  to  me  again  till  thou  hast  the  token  ; else  assuredly  wih 
thou  be  slain^  and  I shall  he  sorry  for  many  a day,  Thereof  as  now  1 
may  not  tell  thee  more.  Now  as  to  the  token  : When  March  is  worn 
two  weeks  fail  not  to  go  to  and  fro  on  the  place  of  the  Maiden  Ward 
for  an  hour  before  sunrise  every  day  till  thou  hear  tidings,^ 

‘Now,’  quoth  Bow-may,  ‘ hast  thou  hearkened  and  understood  ?• 
‘ Yea,’  said  he. 

She  said  : ‘ Then  tell  me  the  words  of  my  message  concerning 
the  token.’  And  he  did  so  word  for  word.  Then  she  said  : 

‘ It  is  well,  there  is  no  more  to  say.  Now  must  I lead  thee  till 
thou  knowest  the  wood  ; and  then  mayst  thou  get  on  to  the  smooth 
snow  again,  and  so  home  merrily.  Yet,  thou  grey-eyed  fellow, 
I will  have  my  pay  of  thee  before  I do  that  last  work.’ 

Therewith  she  turned  about  to  him  and  took  his  head  between 
her  hands,  and  kissed  him  well  favouredly  both  cheeks  and  mouth ; 
and  she  laughed,  albeit  the  tears  stood  in  her  eyes  as  she  said  : 
‘ Now  smelleth  the  wood  sweeter,  and  summer  will  come  back 
again.  And  even  thus  will  I do  once  more  when  we  stand  side 
by  side  in  battle  array.’ 

He  smiled  kindly  on  her  and  nodded  as  they  both  rose  up  from 
the  earth  : she  had  taken  off  her  foul- weather  gloves  while  they 
spake,  and  he  kissed  her  hand,  which  was  shapely  of  fashion  albeit 
somewhat  brown,  and  hard  of  palm,  and  he  said  in  friendly  wise  : 
‘ Thou  art  a merry  faring-fellow.  Row-may,  and  belike  shalt 
be  withal  a true  fighting-fellow.  Come  now,  thou  shalt  be  my 
sister  and  I thy  brother,  in  despite  of  those  three  shafts  across 
the  snow.’ 

He  laughed  therewith  ; she  laughed  not,  but  seemed  glad,  and 
said  soberly  : 

‘Yea,  I may  well  be  thy  sister  ; for  belike  I also  am  of  the 
people  of  the  Gods,  who  have  come  into  these  Dales  by  many  far 
ways.  I am  of  the  House  of  the  Ragged  Sword  of  the  Kindred 
of  the  Wolf.  Come,  brother,  let  us  toward  Wildlake’s  Way.’ 
Therewith  she  went  before  him  and  led  through  the  thicket 

86 


as  by  an  assured  and  wonted  path,  and  he  followed  hard  at  heel ; Face-of-god 

but  his  thought  went  from  her  for  a while  ; for  those  words  of  pondereth. 

brother  and  sister  that  he  had  spoken  called  to  his  mind  the  Bride, 

and  theirkindness  of  little  children,  and  the  days  when  they  seemed 

to  have  nought  to  do  but  to  make  the  sun  brighter,  and  the  flowers 

fairer,  and  the  grass  greener,  and  the  birds  happier  each  for  the 

other ; and  a hard  and  evil  thing  it  seemed  to  him  that  now  he 

should  be  making  all  these  things  nought  and  dreary  to  her,  now 

when  he  had  become  a man  and  deeds  lay  before  him*  Yet  again 

was  he  solaced  by  what  Bow-may  had  said  concerning  battle  to 

come  ; for  he  deemed  that  she  must  have  had  this  from  the  Friend’s 

foreseeing  ; and  he  longed  sore  for  deeds  to  do,  wherein  all  these 

things  might  be  cleared  up  and  washen  clean  as  it  were. 

So  passed  they  through  the  wood  a long  way,  and  it  was  get- 
ting dark  therein,  and  Gold-mane  said  : 

‘ Hold  now.  Bow-may,  for  I am  at  home  here.’ 

She  looked  around  and  said  : ‘Yea,  so  it  is  : I was  thinking 
of  many  things.  Farewell  and  live  merrily  till  March  comes  and 
the  token  ! ’ 

Therewith  she  turned  and  went  her  ways  and  was  soon  out  of 
sight,  and  he  went  lightly  through  the  wood,  and  then  on  skids 
over  the  hard  snow  along  the  Dale’s  edge  till  he  w’as  come  to  the 
watch-tower,  when  the  moon  was  bright  in  heaven. 

Thus  was  he  at  Burgstead  and  the  House  of  the  Face  betimes, 
and  before  the  hunters  were  gotten  back. 


CHAPTER  XV.  MURDER  AMONGST  THE  FOLK  OF  THE 
WOODLANDERS. 

SO  wore  away  midwinter  tidingless.  Stone-face  spake  no 
more  to  Face-of-god  about  the  wood  and  its  wights,  when 
he  saw  that  the  young  man  had  come  back  hale  and  merry, 
and  seemed  not  to  crave  over-much  to  go  back  thither.  As  for 

87 


Tidings  from  the  Bride,  she  was  sad,  and  more  than  misdoubted  all ; but  daunt- 
Carlstead.  gj^^  ^^g  matters  that  try  men’s  hardihood,  she  yet  lacked 

heart  to  ask  of  Face-of-god  what  had  befallen  him  since  the  au- 
tumn-tide, or  where  he  was  with  her.  So  she  put  a force  upon  her- 
self not  to  look  sad  or  craving  when  she  was  in  his  company,  as  full 
oft  she  was ; for  he  rather  sought  her  than  shunned  her.  For  when 
he  saw  her  thus,  he  deemed  things  were  changing  with  her  as  they 
had  changed  with  him,  and  he  bethought  him  of  what  he  had 
spoken  to  Bow-may,  and  deemed  that  even  so  he  might  speak 
with  the  Bride  when  the  time  came,  and  that  she  would  not  be 
grieved  beyond  measure,  and  all  would  be  well. 

Now  came  on  the  thaw,  and  the  snow  went,  and  the  grass  grew 
all  up  and  down  the  Dale,  and  all  waters  were  big.  And  about 
this  time  arose  rumours  of  strange  men  in  the  wood,  uncouth, 
vile,  and  murderous,  and  many  of  the  feebler  sort  were  made 
timorous  thereby. 

But  a little  before  March  was  born  came  new  tidings  from  the 
Woodlanders  ; to  wit : There  came  on  a time  to  the  house  of  a 
woodland  carle,  a worthy  goodman  well  renowned  of  all,  two 
wayfarers  in  the  first  watch  of  the  night ; and  these  men  said  that 
they  were  wending  down  to  the  Plain  from  a far-av/ay  dale,  Rose- 
dale  to  wit,  which  all  men  had  heard  of,  and  that  they  had  strayed 
from  the  way  and  were  exceeding  weary,  and  they  craved  a meal’s 
meat  and  lodging  for  the  night. 

This  the  goodman  might  nowise  gainsay,  and  he  saw  no  harm 
in  it,  wherefore  he  bade  them  abide  and  be  merry. 

These  men,  said  they  who  told  the  tidings,  were  outlanders, 
and  no  man  had  seen  any  like  them  before  : they  were  armed,  and 
bore  short  bows  made  of  horn,  and  round  targets,  and  coats-of- 
fence  done  over  with  horn  scales  ; they  had  crooked  swords  girt 
to  their  sides,  and  axes  of  steel  forged  all  in  one  piece,  right  good 
weapons.  They  were  clad  in  scarlet  and  had  much  silver  on  their 
raiment  and  about  their  weapons,  and  great  rings  of  the  same  on 
their  arms  ; and  all  this  silver  seemed  brand-new. 

88 


Now  the  Woodland  Carle  gave  them  of  such  things  as  he  had,  Foul  deeds  in 
and  was  kind  and  blithe  to  them  : there  were  in  his  house  besides  ^ guest-hall, 
himself  five  men  of  his  sons  and  kindred,  and  his  wife  and  three 
daughters  and  two  other  maids.  So  they  feasted  after  the  Wood- 
landers’  fashion,  and  went  to  bed  a little  before  midnight.  Two 
hours  after,  the  carle  awoke  and  heard  a little  stir,  and  he  looked 
and  saw  the  guests  on  their  feet  amidst  the  hall  clad  in  all  their 
war-gear  ; and  they  had  betwixt  them  his  two  youngest  daughters, 
maids  of  fifteen  and  twelve  winters,  and  had  bound  their  hands 
and  done  clouts  over  their  mouths,  so  that  they  might  not  cry  out ; 
and  they  were  just  at  point  to  carry  them  oif.  Thereat  the  good- 
man,  naked  as  he  was,  caught  up  his  sword  and  made  at  these 
murder-carles,  and  or  ever  they  were  ware  of  him  he  had  hewn 
down  one  and  turned  to  face  the  other,  who  smote  at  him  with  his 
steel  axe  and  gave  him  a great  wound  on  the  shoulder,  and  there- 
withal fied  out  at  the  open  door  and  forth  into  the  wood. 

The  Woodlander  made  no  stay  to  raise  the  cry  (there  was  no 
need,  for  the  hall  was  astir  now  from  end  to  end,  and  men  getting 
to  their  weapons),  but  ran  out  after  the  felon  even  as  he  v^as  ; and, 
in  spite  of  his  grievous  hurt,  overran  him  no  long  way  from  the 
house  before  he  had  gotten  into  the  thicket.  But  the  man  was 
nimble  and  strong,  and  the  goodman  unsteady  from  his  wound, 
and  by  then  the  others  of  the  household  came  up  with  the  hue  and 
cry  he  had  gotten  two  more  sore  wounds  and  was  just  making 
an  end  of  throttling  the  felon  with  his  bare  hands.  So  he  fell  into 
their  arms  fainting  from  weakness,  and  for  all  they  could  do  he 
died  in  two  hours’  time  from  that  axe-wound  in  his  shoulder,  and 
another  on  the  side  of  the  head,  and  a knife-thrust  in  his  side  ; and 
he  was  a man  of  sixty  winters. 

But  the  stranger  he  had  slain  outright;  and  the  one  whom  he 
had  smitten  in  the  hall  died  before  the  dawn,  thrusting  all  help 
aside,  and  making  no  sound  of  speech. 

When  these  tidings  came  to  Burgstead  they  seemed  great  to 
all  men,  and  to  Gold-mane  more  than  all.  So  he  and  many  others 

89  N 


Two  evil  men  took  their  weapons  and  fared  up  to  Wildlake’s  Way,  and  so  came 
lying  dead.  to  the  Woodland  Carles.  But  the  Woodlanders  had  borne  out  the 
carcasses  of  those  felons  and  laid  them  on  the  green  before  Wood- 
grey’s  door  (for  that  was  the  name  of  the  dead  goodman),  and 
they  were  saying  that  they  would  not  bury  such  accursed  folk,  but 
would  bear  them  a little  way  so  that  they  should  not  be  vexed 
with  the  stink  of  them,  and  cast  them  into  the  thicket  for  the  wolf 
and  the  wild-cat  and  the  stoat  to  deal  with ; and  they  should  lie 
there,  weapons  and  silver  and  all ; and  they  deemed  it  base  to  strip 
such  wretches,  for  who  would  wear  their  raiment  or  bear  their 
weapons  after  them. 

There  was  a great  ring  of  folk  round  about  them  when  they 
of  Burgstead  drew  near,  and  they  shouted  for  joy  to  see  their 
neighbours,  and  made  way  before  them.  Then  the  Dalesmen 
cursed  these  murderers  who  had  slain  so  good  a man,  and  they  all 
praised  his  manliness,  whereas  he  ran  out  into  the  night  naked 
and  wounded  after  his  foe,  and  had  fallen  like  his  folk  of  old  time. 

It  was  a bright  spring  afternoon  in  that  clearing  of  the  Wood, 
and  they  looked  at  the  two  dead  men  closely ; and  Gold-mane, 
who  had  been  somewhat  silent  and  moody  till  then,  became  merry 
and  wordy ; for  he  beheld  the  men  and  saw  that  they  were  utterly 
strange  to  him  ; they  were  short  of  stature,  crooked-legged,  long- 
armed,  very  strong  for  their  size  : with  small  blue  eyes,  snubbed- 
nosed, wide-mouthed,  thin-lipped,  very  swarthy  of  skin,  exceed- 
ing foul  of  favour.  He  and  all  others  wondered  who  they  were, 
and  whence  they  came,  for  never  had  they  seen  their  like  ; and  the 
Woodlanders,  who  often  guested  outlanders  strayed  from  the  way 
of  divers  kindreds  and  nations,  said  also  that  none  such  had  they 
ever  seen.  But  Stone-face,  who  stood  by  Gold-mane,  shook  his 
head  and  quoth  he  : 

‘ The  Wild-wood  holdeth  many  marvels,  and  these  be  of  them  : 
the  spawn  of  evil  wights  quickeneth  therein,  and  at  other  whiles 
it  melteth  away  again  like  the  snow ; so  may  it  be  with 
these  carcasses.’ 


90 


And  some  of  the  older  folk  of  the  Woodlanders  who  stood  by  Song  ariseth 
hearkened  what  he  said,  and  deemed  his  words  wise,  for  they 
remembered  their  ancient  lore  and  many  a tale  of  old  time. 

Thereafter  they  of  Burgstead  went  into  Wood-grey’s  hall, 
or  as  many  of  them  as  might,  for  it  was  but  a poor  place  and  not 
right  great.  There  they  saw  the  goodman  laid  on  the  dais  in  all 
his  war-gear,  under  the  last  tie-beam  of  his  hall,  whereon  was 
carved  amidst  much  goodly  work  of  knots  and  flowers  and 
twining  stems  the  image  of  the  Wolf  of  the  Waste,  his  jaws  open 
and  gaping  : the  wife  and  daughters  of  the  goodman  and  other 
women  of  the  folk  stood  about  the  bier  singing  some  old  song  in 
a low  voice,  and  some  sobbing  therewithal,  for  the  man  was  much 
beloved : and  much  people  of  the  Woodlanders  was  in  the  hall, 
and  it  was  somewhat  dusk  within. 

So  the  Burgstead  men  greeted  that  folk  kindly  and  humbly, 
and  again  they  fell  to  praising  the  dead  man,  saying  how  his  deed 
should  long  be  remembered  in  the  Dale  and  wide  about ; and 
they  called  him  a fearless  man  and  of  great  worth.  And  the 
women  hearkened,  and  ceased  their  crooning  and  their  sobbing,  and 
stood  up  proudly  and  raised  their  heads  with  gleaming  eyes  ; and 
as  the  words  of  the  Burgstead  men  ended,  they  lifted  up  their 
voices  and  sang  loudly  and  clearly,  standing  together  in  a row, 
ten  of  them,  on  the  dais  of  that  poor  hall,  facing  the  gable  and 
the  wolf-adorned  tie-beam,  heeding  nought  as  they  sang  what 
was  about  or  behind  them. 

And  this  is  some  of  what  they  sang  : 

Why  sit  ye  bare  in  the  spinning-room  ? 

Why  weave  ye  naked  at  the  loom  ? 

Bare  and  white  as  the  moon  we  be. 

That  the  Earth  and  the  drifting  night  may  see. 

Now  what  is  the  worst  of  all  your  work  ? 

What  curse  amidst  the  web  shall  lurk  ? 

91 


The  Song  of  The  worst  of  the  work  our  hands  shall  win 

the  Weaving  Js  wrack  and  ruin  round  the  kin. 

of  the  Banner, 

Shall  the  woollen  yarn  and  the  flaxen  thread 
Be  gear  for  living  men  or  dead  ? 

The  woollen  yarn  and  the  flaxen  thread 
Shall  flare  ’twixt  living  men  and  dead. 

O what  is  the  ending  of  your  day  ? 

When  shall  }'e  rise  and  wend  away  ? 

Our  day  shall  end  to-morrow  morn, 

When  we  hear  the  voice  of  the  battle-horn. 

Where  first  shall  eyes  of  men  behold 
This  weaving  of  the  moonlight  cold  ? 

There  where  the  alien  host  abides 
The  gathering  on  the  Mountain-sides. 

How  long  aloft  shall  the  fair  web  fly 

When  the  bows  are  bent  and  the  spears  draw  nigh  ? 

From  eve  to  morn  and  morn  till  eve 
Aloft  shall  fly  the  work  we  weave. 

What  then  is  this,  the  web  ye  win  ? 

What  wood-beast  waxeth  stark  therein  ? 

We  weave  the  Wolf  and  the  gift  of  war 
From  the  men  that  were  to  the  men  that  are. 


So  sang  they  : and  much  were  all  men  moved  at  their  singing, 
and  there  was  none  but  called  to  mind  the  old  days  of  the  Fathers, 
and  the  years  when  their  banner  went  wide  in  the  world. 

But  the  Woodlanders  feasted  them  of  Burgstead  what  they 
might,  and  then  went  the  Dalesmen  back  to  their  houses  ; but  on 

92 


the  morrow’s  morrow  they  fared  thither  again,  and  Wood-grey 
was  laid  in  mound  amidst  a great  assemblage  of  the  Folk. 

Many  men  said  that  there  was  no  doubt  that  those  two  felons 
were  of  the  company  of  those  who  had  ransacked  the  steads  of 
Penny-thumb  and  Harts-bane  ; and  so  at  first  deemed  Bristler 
the  son  of  Brightling  : but  after  a while,  when  he  had  had  time  to 
think  of  it,  he  changed  his  mind ; for  he  said  that  such  men  as 
these  would  have  slain  first  and  ransacked  afterwards  : and  some 
who  loved  neither  Penny-thumb  nor  Harts-bane  said  that  they 
would  not  have  been  at  the  pains  to  choose  for  ransacking  the 
two  worst  men  about  the  Dale,  whose  loss  was  no  loss  to  any 
but  themselves. 

As  for  Gold-mane  he  knew  not  what  to  think,  except  that  his 
friends  of  the  Mountain  had  had  nought  to  do  with  it. 

So  wore  the  days  awhile. 


CHAPTER  XVI.  THE  BRIDE  SPEAKETH  WITH  FACE-OF- 
GOD. 

February  had  died  into  March,  and  March  was  now 
twelve  days  old,  on  a fair  and  sunny  day  an  hour  before 
noon ; and  Face-of-god  was  in  a meadow  a scant  mile  down 
the  Dale  from  Burgstead.  He  had  been  driving  a bull  into  a 
goodman’s  byre  nearby,  and  had  had  to  spend  toil  and  patience 
both  in  getting  him  out  of  the  fields  and  into  the  byre  ; for  the 
beast  was  hot  with  the  spring  days  and  the  new  grass.  So  now 
he  was  resting  himself  in  happy  mood  in  an  exceeding  pleasant 
place,  a little  meadow  to  wit,  on  one  side  whereof  was  a great 
orchard  or  grove  of  sweet  chestnuts,  which  went  right  up  to  the 
feet  of  the  Southern  Cliffs  : across  the  meadow  ran  a clear  brook 
towards  the  Weltering  Water,  free  from  big  stones,  in  some  places 
dammed  up  for  the  flooding  of  the  deep  pasture-meadow,  and 
with  the  grass  growing  on  its  lips  down  to  the  very  water.  There 

93 


Men’s  deem- 
ing of  these 
deeds. 


F ace-of-god 
thinketh  of 
the  Bride. 


was  a low  bank  just  outside  the  chestnut  trees,  as  if  someone  had 
raised  a dyke  about  them  when  they  were  young,  which  had  been 
trodden  low  and  spreading  through  the  lapse  of  years  by  the 
faring  of  many  men  and  beasts.  The  primroses  bloomed  thick 
upon  it  now,  and  here  and  there  along  it  was  a low  blackthorn 
bush  in  full  blossom  ; from  the  mid-meadow  and  right  down  to 
the  lip  of  the  brook  was  the  grass  well  nigh  hidden  by  the  blos- 
soms of  the  meadow-saffron,  with  daffodils  sprinkled  about 
amongst  them,  and  in  the  trees  and  bushes  the  birds,  and  chiefly 
the  blackbirds,  were  singing  their  loudest. 

There  sat  Face-of-god  on  the  bank  resting  after  his  toil,  and 
happy  was  his  mood ; since  in  two  days’  wearing  he  should  be 
pacing  the  Maiden  Ward  awaiting  the  token  that  was  to  lead 
him  to  Shadowy  Vale ; so  he  sat  calling  to  mind  the  Friend  as 
he  had  last  seen  her,  and  striving  as  it  were  to  set  her  image 
standing  on  the  flowery  grass  before  him,  till  all  the  beauty  of 
the  meadow  seemed  bare  and  empty  to  him  without  her.  Then 
it  fell  into  his  mind  that  this  had  been  a beloved  trysting-place 
betwixt  him  and  the  Bride,  and  that  often  when  they  were  little 
would  they  come  to  gather  chestnuts  in  the  grove,  and  thereafter 
sit  and  prattle  on  the  old  dyke ; or  in  spring  when  the  season 
was  warm  would  they  go  barefoot  into  the  brook,  seeking  its 
treasures  of  troutlets  and  flowers  and  clean-washed  agate  pebbles. 
Yea,  and  time  not  long  ago  had  they  met  here  to  talk  as  lovers, 
and  sat  on  that  very  bank  in  all  the  kindness  of  good  days  with- 
out a blemish,  and  both  he  and  she  had  loved  the  place  well  for 
its  wealth  of  blossoms  and  deep  grass  and  goodly  trees  and  clear 
running  stream. 

As  he  thought  of  all  this,  and  how  often  there  he  had  praised 
to  himself  her  beauty,  which  he  scarce  dared  praise  to  her,  he 
frowned  and  slowly  rose  to  his  feet,  and  turned  toward  the  chest- 
nut-grove,  as  though  he  would  go  thence  that  way ; but  or  ever 
he  stepped  down  from  the  dyke  he  turned  about  again,  and  even 
therewith,  like  the  very  image  and  ghost  of  his  thought,  lo ! the 

94 


Bride  herself  coming  up  from  out  the  brook  and  wending  toward 
him,  her  wet  naked  feet  gleaming  in  the  sun  as  they  trod  down 
the  tender  meadow-salfron  and  brushed  past  the  tufts  of  daffodils. 
He  stood  staring  at  her  discomforted,  for  on  that  day  he  had  much 
to  think  of  that  seemed  happy  to  him,  and  he  deemed  that  she 
would  now  question  him,  and  his  mind  pondered  divers  ways  of 
answering  her,  and  none  seemed  good  to  him.  She  drew  near  and 
let  her  skirts  fall  over  her  feet,  and  came  to  him,  her  gown  hem 
dragging  over  the  flowers:  then  she  stood  straight  up  before  him 
and  greeted  him,  but  reached  not  forth  her  hand  to  him  nor  touched 
him.  Her  face  was  paler  that  its  wont,  and  her  voice  trembled 
as  she  spake  to  him  and  said  : 

‘ Face-of-god,  I would  ask  thee  a gift.’ 

* All  gifts,’  he  said,  ‘ that  thou  mayest  ask,  and  I may  give, 
lie  open  to  thee.’ 

She  said  : ‘ If  I be  alive  when  the  time  comes  this  gift  thou 
mayst  well  give  me.’ 

* Sweet  kinswoman,’  said  he,  ‘tell  me  what  it  is  that  thou 
wouldest  have  of  me.’  And  he  was  ill-at-ease  as  he  waited  for 
her  answer. 

She  said  : ‘ Ah,  kinsman,  kinsman!  Woe  on  the  day  that 
maketh  kinship  accursed  to  me  because  thou  desirest  it !’ 

Fie  held  his  peace  and  was  exceeding  sorry;  and  she  said: 

‘ This  is  the  gift  that  I ask  of  thee,  that  in  the  days  to  come 
when  thou  art  wedded,  thou  wilt  give  me  the  second  man-child 
whom  thou  begettest.’ 

He  said : ‘ This  shalt  thou  have,  and  would  that  I might  give 
thee  much  more.  Would  that  we  were  little  children  together 
once  again,  as  when  we  played  here  in  other  days.’ 

She  said : ‘ I would  have  a token  of  thee  that  thou  shalt  show  to 
the  God,  and  swear  on  it  to  give  me  the  gift.  For  the  times  change.’ 

‘ What  token  wilt  thou  have  ?’  said  he. 

She  said:  ‘When  next  thou  farest  to  the  Wood,  thou  shalt 
bring  me  back,  it  maybe  a flower  from  the  bank  ye  sit  upon,  or 

95 


The  Bride 
herself. 


The  Gift  to 
be  and  its 
token. 


a splinter  from  the  dais  of  the  hall  wherein  ye  feast,  or  maybe  a 
ring  or  some  matter  that  the  strangers  are  wont  to  wear.  That 
shall  be  the  token.’ 

She  spoke  slowly,  hanging  her  head  adown,  but  she  lifted  it 
presently  and  looked  into  his  face  and  said : 

^ Woe’s  me,  woe’s  me.  Gold-mane ! How  evil  is  this  day, 
when  bewailing  me  I may  not  bewail  thee  also ! For  I know  that 
thine  heart  is  glad.  All  through  the  winter  have  I kept  this  hidden 
in  my  heart,  and  durst  not  speak  to  thee.  But  now  the  spring- 
tide  hath  driven  me  to  it.  Let  summer  come,  and  who  shall  say?’ 
Great  was  his  grief,  and  his  shame  kept  him  silent,  and  he  had 
no  word  to  say ; and  again  she  said  : 

‘Tell  me,  Gold-mane,  when  goest  thou  thither?’ 

He  said  : ‘ I know  not  surely,  may  happen  in  two  days,  may 
happen  in  ten.  Why  askest  thou?’ 

‘O  friend!’  she  said,  ‘ is  it  a new  thing  that  I should  ask 
thee  whither  thou  goest  and  whence  thou  comest,  and  the  times 
of  thy  coming  and  going.  Farewell  to-day  ! Forget  not  the 
token.  Woe’s  me,  that  I may  not  kiss  thy  fair  face  !’ 

She  spread  her  arms  abroad  and  lifted  up  her  face  as  one  who 
waileth,  but  no  sound  came  from  her  lips ; then  she  turned  about 
and  went  away  as  she  had  come. 

But  as  for  him  he  stood  there  after  she  was  gone  in  all  confu- 
sion, as  if  he  were  undone  : for  he  felt  his  manhood  lessened  that 
he  should  thus  and  so  sorely  have  hurt  a friend,  and  in  a manner 
against  his  will.  And  yet  he  was  somewhat  wroth  with  her,  that 
she  had  come  upon  him  so  suddenly,  and  spoken  to  him  with  such 
mastery,  and  in  so  few  words,  and  he  with  none  to  make  answer 
to  her,  and  that  she  had  so  marred  his  pleasure  and  his  hope  of 
that  fair  day.  Then  he  sat  him  down  again  on  the  flowery  bank, 
and  little  by  little  his  heart  softened,  and  he  once  more  called  to 
mind  many  a time  when  they  had  been  there  before,  and  the  plays 
and  the  games  they  had  had  together  there  when  they  were  little. 
And  he  bethought  him  of  the  days  that  were  long  to  him  then. 


and  now  seemed  short  to  him,  and  as  if  they  were  all  grown  to- 
gether into  one  story,  and  that  a sweet  one.  Then  his  breast 
heaved  with  a sob,  and  the  tears  rose  to  his  eyes  and  burned  and 
stung  him,  and  he  fell  a-weeping  for  that  sweet  tale,  and  wept  as 
he  had  wept  once  before  on  that  old  dyke  when  there  had  been 
some  child’s  quarrel  between  them,  and  she  had  gone  away  and 
left  him. 

Then  after  a while  he  ceased  his  weeping,  and  looked  about 
him  lest  anyone  might  be  coming,  and  then  he  arose  and  went  to 
and  fro  in  the  chestnut-grove  for  a good  while,  and  afterwards 
went  his  ways  from  that  meadow,  saying  to  himself : ‘Yet  re- 
maineth  to  me  the  morrow  of  to-morrow,  and  that  is  the  first  of 
the  days  of  the  watching  for  the  token.’ 

But  all  that  day  he  was  slow  to  meet  the  eyes  of  men ; and 
in  the  hall  that  eve  he  was  silent  and  moody  ; for  from  time  to 
time  it  came  over  him  that  some  of  his  manhood  had  departed 
from  him. 


CHAPTER  XVII.  THE  TOKEN  COMETH  FROM  THE 
MOUNTAIN. 

The  next  day  wore  away  tidingless ; and  the  day  after  Face- 
of-god  arose  betimes;  for  it  was  the  first  day  of  his  watch, 
and  he  was  at  the  Maiden  Ward  before  the  time  appointed 
on  a very  fair  and  bright  morning,  and  he  went  to  and  fro  on  that 
place,  and  had  no  tidings.  So  he  came  away  somewhat  cast  down, 
and  said  within  himself : ‘ Is  it  but  a lie  and  a mocking  when  all 
is  said  ?’ 

On  the  morrow  he  went  thither  again,  and  the  morn  was  wild 
and  stormy  with  drift  of  rain,  and  low  clouds  hurrying  over  the 
earth,  though  for  the  sunrise  they  lifted  a little  in  the  east,  and 
the  sun  came  up  over  the  passes,  amidst  the  red  and  angry  rack  of 
clouds.  This  morn  also  gave  him  no  tidings  of  the  token,  and  he 

97  O 


The  first  day’s 
watch  on  the 
Maiden 
Ward. 


The  second 
day’s  watch. 
And  the 
third. 


was  wroth  and  perturbed  in  spirit : but  towards  evening  he  said  : 
‘ It  is  well : ten  days  she  gave  me,  so  that  she  might  be  able  to 
send  without  fail  on  one  of  them  ; she  will  not  fail  me.’ 

So  again  on  the  morrow  he  was  there  betimes,  and  the  morn 
was  windy  as  on  the  day  before,  but  the  clouds  higher  and  of  better 
promise  for  the  day.  Face-of-god  walked  to  and  fro  on  the 
Maiden  Ward,  and  as  he  turned  toward  Burgstead  for  the  tenth 
time,  he  heard,  as  he  deemed,  a bow-string  twang  afar  off,  and  even 
therewith  came  a shaft  flying  heavily  like  a winged  bird,  which 
smote  a great  standing- stone  on  the  other  side  of  the  way,  where 
of  old  some  chieftain  had  been  buried,  and  fell  to  earth  at  its  foot. 
He  went  up  to  it  and  handled  it,  and  saw  that  there  was  a piece 
of  thin  parchment  wrapped  about  it,  which  indeed  he  was  eager 
to  unwrap  at  once,  but  forebore  ; because  he  was  on  the  highway, 
and  people  were  already  astir,  and  even  then  passed  by  him  a good- 
man  of  the  Dale  with  a man  of  his  going  afield  together,  and  they 
gave  him  the  sele  of  the  day.  So  he  went  along  the  highway  a 
little  till  he  came  to  a place  where  was  a footbridge  over  into  the 
meadow.  He  crossed  thereby  and  went  swiftly  till  he  reached 
a rising  ground  grown  over  with  hazel-trees ; there  he  sat  down 
among  the  rabbit-holes,  the  primrose  and  wild-garlic  blooming 
about  him,  and  three  blackbirds  answering  one  another  from  the 
edges  of  the  coppice.  Straightway  when  he  had  looked  and  seen 
none  coming  he  broke  the  threads  that  were  wound  about  the  scroll 
and  the  arrow,  and  unrolled  the  parchment ; and  there  was  writing 
thereon  in  black  ink  of  small  letters,  but  very  fair,  and  this  is  what 
he  read  therein : 

Come  thou  to  the  Mountain  Hall  by  the  path  which  thou  knowest 
ofy  on  the  morrow  of  the  day  whereon  thou  readest  this.  Rise  betimes 
and  come  armed,  for  there  are  other  men  than  we  in  the  wood,  to 
whom  thy  death  should  be  a gain.  When  thou  art  come  to  the  Hall, 
thou  shalt  find  no  man  therein ; but  a great  hound  only,  tied  to  a 
bench  nigh  the  dais.  Call  him  by  his  name.  Sure  foot  to  wit,  and 
give  him  to  eat  from  the  meat  upon  the  boards  and  give  him  water 


to  drink.  If  the  day  is  then  far  spent ^ as  it  is  like  to  be^  abide  thou 
with  the  hound  in  the  hall  through  the  nighty  and  eat  of  what  thou 
shalt  find  there ; but  see  that  the  hound  fares  not  abroad  till  the 
morrow'* s morn  : then  lead  him  out  and  bring  him  to  the  north-east 
corner  of  the  Hall^  and  he  shall  lift  the  slot  for  thee  that  leadeth  to 
the  Shadowy  Vale,  Follow  him  and  all  good  go  with  thee. 

Now  when  he  had  read  this,  earth  seemed  fair  indeed  about 
him,  and  he  scarce  knew  whither  to  turn  or  what  to  do  to  make 
the  most  of  his  joy.  He  presently  went  back  to  Burgstead  and 
into  the  House  of  the  Face,  where  all  men  were  astir  now,  and 
the  day  was  clearing.  He  hid  the  shaft  under  his  kirtle,  for  he 
would  not  that  any  should  see  it ; so  he  went  to  his  shut-bed  and 
laid  it  up  in  his  chest,  wherein  he  kept  his  chiefest  treasures ; but 
the  writing  on  the  scroll  he  set  in  his  bosom  and  so  hid  it.  He 
went  joyfully  and  proudly,  as  one  who  knoweth  more  tidings  and 
better  than  those  around  him.  But  Stone-face  beheld  him,  and 
said  : ‘ Foster-son,  thou  art  happy.  Is  it  that  the  spring-tide  is 
in  thy  blood,  and  maketh  thee  blithe  with  all  things,  or  hast  thou 
some  new  tidings?  Nay,  I would  not  have  an  answer  out  of 
thee ; but  here  is  good  rede  : when  next  thou  goest  into  the 
wood,  it  were  nought  so  ill  for  thee  to  have  a valiant  old  carle  by 
thy  side ; one  that  loveth  thee,  and  would  die  for  thee  if  need  were  ; 
one  who  might  watch  when  thou  wert  seeking.  Or  else  beware  ! 
for  there  are  evil  things  abroad  in  the  Wood,  and  moreover  the 
brethren  of  those  two  felons  who  were  slain  at  Carlstead.’ 

Then  Gold-mane  constrained  himself  to  answer  the  old  carle 
softly ; and  he  thanked  him  kindly  for  his  offer,  and  said  that 
so  it  should  be  before  long.  So  the  talk  between  them  fell,  and 
Stone-face  went  away  somewhat  well-pleased. 

And  now  was  Face-of-god  become  wary  ; and  he  would  not 
draw  men’s  eyes  and  speech  on  him  ; so  he  went  afield  with  Hall- 
face  to  deal  with  the  lambs  and  the  ewes,  and  did  like  other  men. 
No  less  wary  was  he  in  the  hall  that  even,  and  neither  spake  much 
nor  little ; and  when  his  father  spake  to  him  concerning  the  Bride, 

99 


A letter  from 
the  Mountain. 


Face-of-god 
cometh  to  the 
Mountain- 
hall  again. 


and  made  game  of  him  as  a somewhat  sluggish  groom,  he  did  not 
change  countenance,  but  answered  lightly  what  came  to  hand. 

On  the  morrow  ere  the  earliest  dawn  he  was  afoot,  and  he  clad 
himself  and  did  on  his  hauberk,  his  father’s  work,  which  was  fine- 
wrought  and  a stout  defence,  and  reached  down  to  his  knees  ; and 
over  that  he  did  on  a goodly  green  kirtle  well  embroidered  : he 
girt  his  war-sword  to  his  side,  and  it  was  the  work  of  his  father’s 
father,  and  a very  good  sword  : its  name  was  Dale-warden.  He 
did  a good  helm  on  his  head,  and  slung  a targe  at  his  back,  and 
took  two  spears  in  his  hand,  short  but  strong-shafted  and  well- 
steeled.  Thus  arrayed  he  left  Burgstead  before  the  dawn,  and 
came  to  Wildlake’s  Way  and  betook  him  to  the  Woodland.  He 
made  no  stop  or  stay  on  the  path,  but  ate  his  meat  standing  by 
an  oak-tree  close  by  the  half-blind  track.  When  he  came  to  the 
little  wood-lawn,  where  was  the  toft  of  the  ancient  house,  he  looked 
all  round  about  him,  for  he  deemed  that  a likely  place  for  those 
ugly  wood-wights  to  set  on  him  ; but  nought  befell  him,  though 
he  stooped  and  drank  of  the  woodland  rill  warily  enough.  So  he 
passed  on ; and  there  were  other  places  also  where  he  fared  warily, 
because  they  seemed  like  to  hold  lurking  felons  ; though  forsooth 
the  whole  wood  might  well  serve  their  turn.  But  no  evil  befell 
him,  and  at  last,  when  it  yet  lacked  an  hour  to  sunset,  he  came 
to  the  wood-lawn  where  Wild-wearer  had  made  his  onset  that 
other  eve. 

He  went  straight  up  to  the  house,  his  heart  beating,  and  he 
scarce  believing  but  that  he  should  find  the  Friend  abiding  him 
there  : but  when  he  pushed  the  door  it  gave  way  before  him  at 
once,  and  he  entered  and  found  no  man  therein,  and  the  walls 
stripped  bare  and  no  shield  or  weapon  hanging  on  the  panels.  But 
the  hound  he  saw  tied  to  a bench  nigh  the  dais,  and  the  bristles 
on  the  beast’s  neck  arose,  and  he  snarled  on  Face-of-god,  and 
strained  on  his  leathern  leash.  Then  Face-of-god  went  up  to 
him  and  called  him  by  his  name,  Sure-foot,  and  gave  him  his  hand 
to  lick,  and  he  brought  him  water,  and  fed  him  with  flesh  from 

100 


the  meat  on  the  board  ; so  the  beast  became  friendly  and  wagged 
his  tail  and  whined  and  slobbered  his  hand. 

Then  he  went  all  about  the  house,  and  saw  and  heard  no  living 
thing  therein  save  the  mice  in  the  panels  and  Sure-foot.  So  he 
came  back  to  the  dais,  and  sat  him  down  at  the  board  and  ate  his 
fill,  and  thought  concerning  his  case.  And  it  came  into  his  mind 
that  the  Woman  of  the  Mountain  had  some  deed  for  him  to  do 
which  would  try  his  manliness  and  exalt  his  fame  ; and  his  heart 
rose  high  and  he  was  glad,  and  he  saw  himself  sitting  beside  her 
on  the  dais  of  a very  fair  hall  beloved  and  honoured  of  all  the 
folk,  and  none  had  aught  to  say  against  him  or  owed  him  any 
grudge.  Thus  he  pleased  himself  in  thinking  of  the  good  days 
to  come,  sitting  there  till  the  hall  grew  dusk  and  dark  and  the 
night-wind  moaned  about  it. 

Then  after  a while  he  arose  and  raked  together  the  brands  on 
the  hearth,  and  made  light  in  the  hall  and  looked  to  the  door.  And 
he  found  there  were  bolts  and  bars  thereto,  so  he  shot  the  bolts  and 
drew  the  bars  into  their  places  and  made  all  as  sure  as  might  be. 
Then  he  brought  Sure-foot  down  from  the  dais,  and  tied  him  up 
so  that  he  might  lie  down  athwart  the  door,  and  then  lay  down 
in  his  hauberk  with  his  naked  sword  ready  to  his  hand,  and  slept 
a long  while. 

When  he  awoke  it  was  darker  than  when  he  had  lain  him 
down,  for  the  moon  had  set;  yet  he  deemed  that  the  day  was  at 
point  of  breaking.  So  he  fetched  water  and  washed  the  night  off 
him,  and  saw  a little  glimmer  of  the  dawn.  Then  he  ate  some- 
what of  the  meat  on  the  board,  and  did  on  his  helm  and  his  other 
gear,  and  unbarred  the  door,  and  led  Sure-foot  without,  and  brought 
him  to  the  north-east  corner  of  the  house,  and  in  a little  while  he 
lifted  the  slot  and  they  departed,  the  man  and  the  hound,  just  as 
dawn  broke  from  over  the  mountains. 

Sure-foot  led  right  into  the  heart  of  the  pine-wood,  and  it  was 
dark  enough  therein,  with  nought  but  a feeble  glimmer  for  some 
while,  and  long  was  the  way  therethrough ; but  in  two  hours’ 

lOI 


The  Hound 
in  the  Hall. 


The  Wilder- 
ness. 


space  was  there  something  of  a break,  and  they  came  to  the  shore 
of  a dark  deep  tarn  on  whose  windless  and  green  waters  the  day- 
light shone  fully.  The  hound  skirted  the  water,  and  led  on  un- 
checked till  the  trees  began  to  grow  smaller  and  the  air  colder 
for  all  that  the  sun  was  higher  ; for  they  had  been  going  up  and 
up  all  the  way. 

So  at  last  after  a six  hours’  journey  they  came  clean  out  of  the 
pine-wood,  and  before  them  lay  the  black  wilderness  of  the  bare 
mountains,  and  beyond  them,  looking  quite  near  now,  the  great 
ice-peaks,  the  wall  of  the  world.  It  was  but  an  hour  short  of  noon 
by  this  time,  and  the  high  sun  shone  down  on  a barren  boggy 
moss  which  lay  betwixt  them  and  the  rocky  waste.  Sure-foot 
made  no  stay,  but  threaded  the  ways  that  went  betwixt  the  quag- 
mires, and  in  another  hour  led  Face-of-god  into  a winding  valley 
blinded  by  great  rocks,  and  everywhere  stony  and  rough,  with  a 
trickle  of  water  running  amidst  of  it.  The  hound  fared  on  up  the 
dale  to  where  the  water  was  bridged  by  a great  fallen  stone,  and 
so  over  it  and  up  a steep  bent  on  the  further  side,  on  to  a mar- 
vellously rough  mountain-neck,  whiles  mere  black  sand  cumbered 
with  scattered  rocks  and  stones,  whiles  beset  with  mires  grown 
over  with  the  cottony  mire-grass  ; here  and  there  a little  scanty 
grass  growing  ; otherwhere  nought  but  dwarf  willow  ever  dying 
ever  growing,  mingled  with  moss  or  red-blossomed  sengreen  ; and 
all  blending  together  into  mere  desolation. 

Few  living  things  they  saw  there;  up  on  the  neck  a few  sheep 
were  grazing  the  scanty  grass,  but  there  was  none  to  tend  them  ; 
yet  Face-of-god  deemed  the  sight  of  them  good,  for  there  must  be 
men  anigh  who  owned  them.  For  the  rest,  the  whimbrei  laughed 
across  the  mires ; high  up  in  heaven  a great  eagle  was  hanging ; 
once  and  again  a grey  fox  leapt  up  before  them,  and  the  heath- 
fowl  whirred  up  from  under  Face-of-god’ s feet.  A raven  who 
was  sitting  croaking  on  a rock  in  that  first  dale  stirred  uneasily  on 
his  perch  as  he  saw  them,  and  when  they  were  passed  flapped  his 
wings  and  flew  after  them  croaking  still. 

102 


Now  they  fared  over  that  neck  somewhat  east,  making  but 
slow  way  because  the  ground  was  so  broken  and  rocky  ; and  in 
another  hour’s  space  Sure-foot  led  down-hill  due  east  to  where  the 
stony  neck  sank  into  another  desolate  miry  heath  still  falling  to- 
ward the  east,  but  whose  further  side  was  walled  by  a rampart 
of  crags  cleft  at  their  tops  into  marvellous  shapes,  coal-black,  un- 
grassed and  unmossed.  Thitherward  the  hound  led  straight,  and 
Gold-mane  followed  wondering  : as  he  drew  near  them  he  saw 
that  they  were  not  very  high,  the  tallest  peak  scant  fifty  feet  from 
the  face  of  the  heath. 

They  made  their  way  through  the  scattered  rocks  at  the  foot 
of  these  crags,  till,  just  where  the  rock- wall  seemed  the  closest, 
the  way  through  the  stones  turned  into  a path  going  through  it 
skew-wise ; and  it  was  now  so  clear  a path  that  belike  it  had 
been  bettered  by  men’s  hands.  Down  thereby  Face-of-god  fol- 
lowed the  hound,  deeming  that  he  was  come  to  the  gates  of  the 
Shadowy  Vale,  and  the  path  went  down  steeply  and  swiftly. 
But  when  he  had  gone  down  a while,  the  rocks  on  his  right  hand 
sank  lower  for  a space,  so  that  he  could  look  over  and  see  what 
lay  beneath. 

There  lay  below  him  a long  narrow  vale  quite  plain  at  the 
bottom,  walled  on  the  further  side  as  on  the  hither  by  sheer  rocks 
of  black  stone.  The  plain  was  grown  over  with  grass,  but  he 
could  see  no  tree  therein : a deep  river, dark  and  green,  ran  through 
the  vale,  sometimes  through  its  midmost,  sometimes  lapping  the 
further  rock-wall : and  he  thought  indeed  that  on  many  a day  in 
the  year  the  sun  would  never  shine  on  that  valley. 

Thus  much  he  saw,  and  then  the  rocks  rose  again  and  shut  it 
from  his  sight ; and  at  last  they  drew  so  close  together  over  head 
that  he  was  in  a way  going  through  a cave  with  little  daylight 
coming  from  above,  and  in  the  end  he  was  in  a cave  indeed  and 
mere  darkness  : but  with  the  last  feeble  glimmer  of  light  he 
thought  he  saw  carved  on  a smooth  space  of  the  living  rock  at  his 
left  hand  the  image  of  a wolf 

103 


The  gate  of 

Shadowy 

Vale. 


In  Shadowy  This  cave  lasted  but  a little  way,  and  soon  the  hound  and  the 
Vale.  man  were  going  once  more  between  sheer  black  rocks,  and  the 

path  grew  steeper  yet  and  was  cut  into  steps.  At  last  there  was 
a sharp  turn,  and  they  stood  on  the  top  of  a long  stony  scree, 
down  which  Sure-foot  bounded  eagerly,  giving  tongue  as  he  went; 
but  Face-of-god  stood  still  and  looked,  for  now  the  whole  Dale 
lay  open  before  him. 

That  river  ran  from  north  to  south,  and  at  the  south  end  the 
cliffs  drew  so  close  to  it  that  looking  thence  no  outgate  could  be 
seen  ; but  at  the  north  end  there  was  as  it  were  a dreary  street 
of  rocks,  the  river  flowing  amidmost  and  leaving  little  foothold 
on  either  side,  somewhat  as  it  was  with  the  pass  leading  from  the 
mountains  into  Burgdale. 

Amidmost  of  the  Dale  a little  toward  the  north  end  he  saw  a 
doom-ring  of  black  stones,  and  hard  by  it  an  ancient  hall  builded 
of  the  same  black  stone  both  wall  and  roof,  and  thitherward  was 
Sure-foot  now  running.  Face-of-god  looked  up  and  down  the 
Dale  and  could  see  no  break  in  the  wall  of  sheer  rock : toward 
the  southern  end  he  saw  a few  booths  and  cots  built  roughly  of 
stone  and  thatched  with  turf;  thereabout  he  saw  a few  folk  moving 
about,  the  most  of  whom  seemed  to  be  women  and  children ; there 
were  some  sheep  and  lambs  near  these  cots,  and  a herd  of  fifty 
or  so  of  somewhat  goodly  mountain-kine  were  feeding  higher  up 
the  valley.  He  could  look  down  into  the  river  from  where  he 
stood,  and  he  saw  that  it  ran  between  rocky  banks  going  straight 
down  from  the  face  of  the  meadow,  which  was  rather  high  above 
the  water,  so  that  it  seemed  little  likely  that  the  water  should  rise 
over  its  banks,  either  in  summer  or  winter ; and  in  summer  was 
it  like  to  be  highest,  because  the  vale  was  so  near  to  the  high  moun- 
tains and  their  snows. 


104 


CHAPTER  XVIII.  FACE-OF-GOD  TALKETH  WITH  THE 
FRIEND  IN  SHADOWY  VALE. 

IT  was  now  about  two  hours  after  noon,  and  a broad  band  of  A fair 
sunlight  lay  upon  the  grass  of  the  vale  below  Gold-mane’s  welcome, 
feet ; he  went  lightly  down  the  scree,  and  strode  forward 
over  the  level  grass  toward  the  Doom-ring,  his  helm  and  war- 
gear  glittering  bright  in  the  sun.  He  must  needs  go  through  the 
Doom-ring  to  come  to  the  Hall,  and  as  he  stepped  out  from  behind 
the  last  of  the  big  upright-stones,  he  saw  a woman  standing  on 
the  threshold  of  the  Hall-door,  which  was  but  some  score  of  paces 
from  him,  and  knew  her  at  once  for  the  Friend. 

She  was  clad  like  himself  in  a green  kirtle  gaily  embroidered 
and  fitting  close  to  her  body,  and  had  no  gown  or  cloak  over  it ; 
she  had  a golden  fillet  on  her  head  beset  with  blue  mountain 
stones,  and  her  hair  hung  loose  behind  her. 

Her  beauty  was  so  exceeding,  and  so  far  beyond  all  memory 
of  her  that  his  mind  had  held,  that  once  more  fear  of  her  fell  upon 
Face-of-god,  and  he  stood  still  with  beating  heart  till  she  should 
speak  to  him.  But  she  came  forward  swiftly  with  both  her  hands 
held  out,  smiling  and  happy-faced,  and  looking  very  kindly  on 
him,  and  she  took  his  hands  and  said  to  him  : 

‘ Now  welcome.  Gold-mane,  welcome,  Face-of-god  ! and  twice 
welcome  art  thou  and  threefold.  Lo  ! this  is  the  day  that  thou 
hast  asked  for  : art  thou  happy  in  it  ? ’ 

He  lifted  her  hands  to  his  lips  and  kissed  them  timorously,  but 
said  nought ; and  therewithal  Sure-foot  came  running  forth  from 
the  Hall,  and  fell  to  bounding  round  about  them,  barking  noisily 
after  the  manner  of  dogs  who  have  met  their  masters  again  ; and 
still  she  held  his  hands  and  beheld  him  kindly.  Then  she  called 
the  hound  to  her,  and  patted  him  on  the  neck  and  quieted  him, 
and  then  turned  to  Face-of-god  and  laughed  happily  and  said : 

‘ I do  not  bid  thee  hold  thy  peace  ; yet  thou  sayest  nought.  Is 
it  well  with  thee  ? ’ 


105 


P 


The  Image  of  ‘ Yea,’  he  said,  ^ and  more  than  well.’ 

the  Wolf.  ^Thou  seemest  to  me  a goodly  warrior,’  she  said;  ‘hast  thou 

met  any  foemen  yesterday  or  this  morning?’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  he,  ‘ none  hindered  me  ; thou  hast  made  the  wa}'S 
easy  to  me.’ 

She  said  soberly,  ‘ Such  as  I might  do,  I did.  But  we  may 
not  wield  everything,  for  our  foes  are  many,  and  I feared  for  thee. 
But  come  thou  into  our  house,  which  is  ours,  and  far  more  ours 
than  the  booth  before  the  pine-wood.’ 

She  took  his  hand  again  and  led  him  toward  the  door,  but 
Face-of-god  looked  up,  and  above  the  lintel  he  saw  carved  on  the 
dark  stone  that  image  of  the  Wolf,  even  as  he  had  seen  it  carved 
on  Wood-grey’s  tie-beam ; and  therewith  such  thoughts  came 
into  his  mind  that  he  stopped  to  look,  pressing  the  Friend’s  hand 
hard  as  though  bidding  her  note  it.  The  stone  wherein  the  image 
was  carved  was  darker  than  the  other  building  stones,  and  might 
be  called  black ; the  jaws  of  the  wood-beast  were  open  and 
gaping,  and  had  been  painted  with  cinnabar,  but  wind  and 
weather  had  worn  away  the  most  of  the  colour. 

Spake  the  Friend  : ‘ So  it  is : thou  beholdest  the  token  of  the 
God  and  Father  of  our  Fathers,  that  telleth  the  tale  of  so  many 
days,  that  the  days  which  now  pass  by  us  be  to  them  but  as  the 
drop  in  the  sea  of  waters.  Thou  beholdest  the  sign  of  our  sor- 
row, the  memory  of  our  wrong ; yet  is  it  also  the  token  of  our 
hope.  Maybe  it  shall  lead  thee  far.’ 

‘ Whither  ? ’ said  he.  But  she  answered  not  a great  while, 
and  he  looked  at  her  as  she  stood  a-gazing  on  the  image,  and  saw 
how  the  tears  stole  out  of  her  eyes  and  ran  adown  her  cheeks. 
Then  again  came  the  thought  to  him  of  Wood-grey’s  hall,  and 
the  women  of  the  kindred  standing  before  the  Wolf  and  singing 
of  him ; and  though  there  was  little  comeliness  in  them  and  she 
was  so  exceeding  beauteous,  he  could  not  but  deem  that  they  were 
akin  to  her. 

But  after  a while  she  wiped  the  tears  from  her  face  and  turned 

io6 


to  him  and  said:  ‘My  friend,  the  Wolf  shall  lead  thee  no-  They  go  into 
whither  but  where  I also  shall  be,  whatsoever  peril  or  grief  may  the  Hall, 
beset  the  road  or  lurk  at  the  ending  thereof.  Thou  shalt  be  no 
thrall,  to  labour  while  I look  on.’ 

His  heart  swelled  within  him  as  she  spoke,  and  he  was  at 
point  to  beseech  her  love  that  moment;  but  now  her  face  had 
grown  gay  and  bright  again,  and  she  said  while  he  was  gathering 
words  to  speak  withal : 

‘ Come  in,  Gold-mane,  come  into  our  house ; for  I have  many 
things  to  say  to  thee.  And  moreover  thou  art  so  hushed,  and  so 
fearsome  in  thy  mail,  that  I think  thou  yet  deemest  me  to  be  a 
Wight  of  the  Waste,  such  as  Stone-face  thy  Fosterer  told  thee 
tales  of,  and  forewarned  thee.  So  would  I eat  before  thee,  and 
sign  the  meat  with  the  sign  of  the  Earth-god’s  Hammer,  to  show 
thee  that  he  is  in  error  concerning  me,  and  that  I am  a very 
woman  flesh  and  fell,  as  my  kindred  were  before  me.’ 

He  laughed  and  was  exceeding  glad,  and  said:  ‘Tell  me 
now,  kind  friend,  dost  thou  deem  that  Stone-face’s  tales  are  mere 
mockery  of  his  dreams,  and  that  he  is  beguiled  by  empty  sem- 
blances or  less?  Or  are  there  such  Wights  in  the  Waste.’ 

‘ Nay,’  she  said,  ‘ the  man  is  a true  man  ; and  of  these  things 
are  there  many  ancient  tales  which  we  may  not  doubt.  Yet  so  it 
is  that  such  wights  have  I never  yet  seen,  nor  aught  to  scare  me 
save  evil  men : belike  it  is  that  I have  been  over-much  busied  in 
dealing  with  sorrow  and  ruin  to  look  after  them  : or  it  may  be 
that  they  feared  me  and  the  wrath-breeding  grief  of  the  kindred.’ 

He  looked  at  her  earnestly,  and  the  wisdom  of  her  heart 
seemed  to  enter  into  his;  but  she  said  : ‘ It  is  of  men  we  must 
talk,  and  of  me  and  thee.  Come  with  me,  my  friend.’ 

And  she  stepped  lightly  over  the  threshold  and  drew  him  in. 

The  Hall  was  stern  and  grim  and  somewhat  dusky,  for  its  win- 
dows were  but  small : it  was  all  of  stone,  both  walls  and  roof. 

There  was  no  timber-work  therein  save  the  benches  and  chairs, 
and  a little  about  the  doors  at  the  lower  end  that  led  to  the  but- 

107 


A game  of  tery  and  out-bowers  ; and  this  seemed  to  have  been  wrought  of 
spear-casting,  late  years ; yea,  the  chairs  against  the  gable  on  the  dais  were 
of  stone  built  into  the  wall,  adorned  with  carving  somewhat 
sparingly,  the  image  of  the  Wolf  being  done  over  the  midmost  of 
them.  He  looked  up  and  down  the  Hall,  and  deemed  it  some 
seventy  feet  over  all  from  end  to  end ; and  he  could  see  in  the 
dimness  those  same  goodly  hangings  on  the  wall  which  he  had 
seen  in  the  woodland  booth. 

She  led  him  up  to  the  dais,  and  stood  there  leaning  up  against 
the  arm  of  one  of  those  stone  seats  silent  for  a while ; then  she 
turned  and  looked  at  him,  and  said  : 

‘ Yea,  thou  lookest  a goodly  warrior  ; yet  am  I glad  that  thou 
earnest  hither  without  battle.  Tell  me.  Gold-mane,’  she  said, 
taking  one  of  his  spears  from  his  hand,  ‘ art  thou  deft  with 
the  spear  ? ’ 

^ I have  been  called  so,’  said  he. 

She  looked  at  him  sweetly  and  said : ‘ Canst  thou  show  me 
the  feat  of  spear-throwing  in  this  Hall,  or  shall  we  wend  outside 
presently  that  I may  see  thee  throw?’ 

‘ The  Hall  suffleeth,’  he  said.  ‘ Shall  I set  this  steel  in  the 
lintel  of  the  buttery  door  yonder  ?’ 

‘Yea,  if  thou  canst,’  she  said. 

He  smiled  and  took  the  spear  from  her,  and  poised  it  and 
shook  it  till  it  quivered  again,  then  suddenly  drew  back  his  arm 
and  cast,  and  the  shaft  sped  whistling  down  the  dim  hall,  and 
smote  the  aforesaid  door-lintel  and  stuck  there  quivering  : then 
he  sprang  down  from  the  dais,  and  ran  down  the  hall,  and  put 
forth  his  hand  and  pulled  it  forth  from  the  wood,  and  was  on  the 
dais  again  in  a trice,  and  cast  again,  and  the  second  time  set  the 
spear  in  the  same  place,  and  then  took  his  other  spear  from  the 
board  and  cast  it,  and  there  stood  the  two  staves  in  the  wood  side 
by  side ; then  he  went  soberly  down  the  hall  and  drew  them 
both  out  of  the  wood  and  came  back  to  her,  while  she  stood 
watching  him,  her  cheek  flushed,  her  lips  a little  parted. 


She  said  : ^ Good  spear-casting,  forsooth  ! and  far  above  what 
our  folk  can  do,  who  be  no  great  throwers  of  the  spear.’ 

Gold-mane  laughed  : ‘ Sooth  is  that,’  said  he,  ‘ or  hardly  were 
I here  to  teach  thee  spear-throwing.’ 

‘ Wilt  thou  never  be  paid  for  that  simple  onslaught  ?’  she  said. 
‘ Have  I been  paid  then  ?’  said  he. 

She  reddened,  for  she  remembered  her  word  to  him  on  the 
mountain ; and  he  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder  and  kissed  her 
cheek,  but  timorously;  nor  did  she  v/ithstand  him  or  shrink 
aback,  but  said  soberly  : 

‘ Good  indeed  is  thy  spear-throwing,  and  meseems  my  brother 
will  love  thee  when  he  hath  seen  thee  strike  a stroke  or  two  in 
wrath.  But,  fair  warrior,  there  be  no  foemen  here  : so  get  thee 
to  the  lower  end  of  the  Hall,  and  in  the  bower  beyond  shalt  thou 
find  fresh  water ; there  wash  the  waste  from  off  thee,  and  do  off 
thine  helm  and  hauberk,  and  come  back  speedily  and  eat  with 
me ; for  I hunger,  and  so  dost  thou.’ 

He  did  as  she  bade  him,  and  came  back  presently  bearing 
in  his  hand  both  helm  and  hauberk,  and  he  looked  light-limbed 
and  trim  and  lissome,  an  exceeding  goodly  man. 


CHAPTER  XIX.  THE  FAIR  WOMAN  TELLETH  FACE- 
OF-GOD  OF  HER  KINDRED. 

W HEN  he  came  back  to  the  dais  he  saw  that  there  was 
meat  upon  the  board,  and  the  Friend  said  to  him  : 

^ Now  art  thou  Gold-mane  indeed  : but  come  now, 
sit  by  me  and  eat,  though  the  Wood-woman  giveth  thee  but  a 
sorry  banquet,  O guest ; but  from  the  Dale  it  is,  and  we  be  too 
far  now  from  the  dwellings  of  men  to  have  delicate  meat  on  the 
board,  though  to-night  when  they  come  back  th}^  cheer  shall  be 
better.  Yet  even  then  thou  shalt  have  no  such  dainties  as  Stone- 
face  hath  imagined  for  thee  at  the  hands  of  the  Wood-wight.’ 

109 


Face-of-god 
doeth  ofF  his 
armour. 


They  eat 
together. 


She  laughed  therewith,  and  he  no  less  ; and  in  sooth  the  meat 
was  but  simple,  of  curds  and  new  cheese,  meat  of  the  herdsmen. 
But  Face-of-god  said  gaily  : ‘ Sweet  it  shall  be  to  me  ; good  is 
all  that  the  Friend  giveth.’ 

Then  she  raised  her  hand  and  made  the  sign  of  the  Hammer 
over  the  board,  and  looked  up  at  him  and  said : 

‘ Hath  the  Earth-god  changed  my  face,  Gold-mane,  to  what  I 
verily  am  ?’ 

He  held  his  face  close  to  hers  and  looked  into  it,  and  him- 
seemed  it  was  as  pure  as  the  waters  of  a mountain  lake,  and  as  fine 
and  well-wrought  every  deal  of  it  as  when  his  father  had  wrought 
in  his  stithy  many  days  and  fashioned  a small  piece  of  great  mas- 
tery. He  was  ashamed  to  kiss  her  again,  but  he  said  to  himself, 
^ This  is  the  fairest  woman  of  the  world,  whom  I have  sworn  to 
wed  this  year.’  Then  he  spake  aloud  and  said  : 

‘ I see  the  face  of  the  Friend,  and  it  will  not  change  to  me.’ 
Again  she  reddened  a little,  and  the  happy  look  in  her  face 
seemed  to  grow  yet  sweeter,  and  he  was  bewildered  with  longing 
and  delight. 

But  she  stood  up  and  went  to  an  ambrye  in  the  wall  and  brought 
forth  a horn  shod  and  lipped  with  silver  of  ancient  fashion,  and 
she  poured  wine  into  it  and  held  it  forth  and  said  : 

‘ O guest  from  the  Dale,  I pledge  thee  ! and  when  thou  hast 
drunk  to  me  in  turn  we  will  talk  of  weighty  matters.  For 
indeed  I bear  hopes  in  my  hands  too  heavy  for  the  daughters  of 
men  to  bear ; and  thou  art  a chieftain’s  son,  and  mayst  well 
help  me  to  bear  them ; so  let  us  talk  simply  and  without  guile, 
as  folk  that  trust  one  another.’ 

So  she  drank  and  held  out  the  horn  to  him,  and  he  took  the 
horn  and  her  hand  both,  and  he  kissed  her  hand  and  said  : 

‘ Here  in  this  Hall  I drink  to  the  Sons  of  the  Wolf,  whoso- 
ever they  be.’  Therewith  he  drank  and  he  said  : ‘ Simply  and 
guilelessly  indeed  will  I talk  with  thee  ; for  I am  weary  of  lies, 
and  for  thy  sake  have  I told  a many.’ 

no 


‘ Thou  shalt  tell  no  more,’  she  said ; ‘ and  as  for  the  health  She  askcth  of 
thou  hast  drunk,  it  is  good,  and  shall  profit  thee.  Now  sit  we  tidings, 
here  in  these  ancient  seats  and  let  us  talk.’ 

So  they  sat  them  down  while  the  sun  was  westering  in  the  March 
afternoon,  and  she  said  : 

‘ Tell  me  first  what  tidings  have  been  in  the  Dale.’ 

So  he  told  her  of  the  ransackings  and  of  the  murder  at  Carlstead. 

She  said  : ‘ These  tidings  have  v e heard  before,  and  some 
deal  of  them  we  know  better  than  ye  do,  or  can  ; for  we  were 
the  ransackers  of  Penny-thumb  and  Harts-bane.  Thereof  will 
I say  more  presently.  What  other  tidings  hast  thou  to  tell  of? 

What  oaths  were  sworn  upon  the  Boar  last  Yule  ? ’ 

So  he  told  her  of  the  oath  of  Bristler  the  son  of  Brightling. 

She  smiled  and  said  : ‘ He  shall  keep  his  oath,  and  yet  redden 
no  blade.’ 

Then  he  told  of  his  father’s  oath,  and  she  said  : 

‘ It  is  good ; but  even  so  would  he  do  and  no  oath  sworn. 

All  men  may  trust  Iron-face.  And  thou,  my  friend,  what  oath 
didst  thou  swear  ? ’ 

His  face  grew  somewhat  troubled  as  he  said  : ‘ I swore  to 
wed  the  fairest  woman  in  the  world,  though  the  Dalesmen  gain- 
said me,  and  they  beyond  the  Dale.’ 

‘ Yea,’  she  said,  ‘ and  there  is  no  need  to  ask  thee  whom  thou 
didst  mean  by  thy  ‘‘  fairest  woman,”  for  I have  seen  that  thou 
deemest  me  fair  enough.  My  friend,  maybe  thy  kindred  will  be 
against  it,  and  the  kindred  of  the  Bride  ; and  it  might  be  that 
my  kindred  would  have  gainsaid  it  if  things  were  not  as  they 
are.  But  though  all  men  gainsay  it,  yet  will  not  I.  It  is  meet 
and  right  that  we  twain  wed.’ 

She  spake  very  soberly  and  quietly,  but  when  she  had  spoken 
there  was  nothing  in  his  heart  but  joy  and  gladness  : yet  shame 
of  her  loveliness  refrained  him,  and  he  cast  down  his  eyes  before 
hers.  Then  she  said  in  a kind  voice  : 

‘ I know  thee,  how  glad  thou  art  of  this  word  of  mine,  because 

III 


Glad  is  Face- 
of-god. 


thou  lookest  on  me  with  eyes  oflove,  and  thinkest  of  me  as  better 
than  I am ; though  I am  no  ill  woman  and  no  beguiler.  But 
this  is  not  all  that  I have  to  say  to  thee,  though  it  be  much ; for 
there  are  more  folk  in  the  world  than  thou  and  I only.  But  I 
told  thee  this  first,  that  thou  mightest  trust  me  in  all  things. 
So,  my  friend,  if  thou  canst,  refrain  thy  joy  and  thy  longing  a 
little,  and  hearken  to  what  concerneth  thee  and  me,  and  thy 
people  and  mine.’ 

‘ Fair  woman  and  sweet  friend,’  he  said,  ‘ thou  knowest  of  a 
gladness  which  is  hard  to  bear  if  one  must  lay  it  aside  for  a 
while  ; and  of  a longing  which  is  hard  to  refrain  if  it  mingle 
with  another  longing — knowest  thou  not  ? ^ 

‘ Yea,’  she  said,  ‘ I know  it,’ 

‘ Yet,'  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ I will  forbear  as  thou  biddest  me. 
Tell  me,  then,  what  were  the  felons  who  were  slain  at  Carlstead? 
Knowest  thou  of  them  ? ’ 

‘ Over  well,’  she  said,  ^ they  are  our  foes  this  many  a year  ; 
and  since  we  met  last  autumn  they  have  become  foes  of  you 
Dalesmen  also.  Soon  shall  ye  have  tidings  of  them  ; and  it  was 
against  them  that  I bade  thee  arm  yesterday.’ 

Said  Face-of-god  : ‘ Is  it  against  them  that  thou  wouldst  have 
us  do  battle  along  with  thy  folk  ? ’ 

‘ So  it  is,’  she  said  ; ‘ no  other  foemen  have  we.  And  now.  Gold- 
mane,  thou  art  become  a friend  of  the  Wolf,  and  shalt  before  long 
be  of  affinity  with  our  House ; that  other  day  thou  didst  ask  me 
to  tell  thee  of  me  and  mine,  and  now  will  I do  according  to  thine 
asking.  Short  shall  my  tale  be  ; because  maybe  thou  shalt  hear 
it  told  again,  and  in  goodly  wise,  before  thine  whole  folk. 

‘ As  thou  wottest  we  be  now  outlaws  and  Wolves’  Heads  ; 
and  whiles  we  lift  the  gear  of  men,  but  ever  if  we  may  of  ill 
men  and  not  of  good  ; there  is  no  worthy  goodman  of  the  Dale 
from  whom  we  would  take  one  hoof,  or  a skin  of  wine,  or  a cake 
of  wax. 

‘ Wherefore  are  we  outlaws  ? Because  we  have  been  driven 

II2 


from  our  own,  and  we  bore  away  our  lives  and  our  weapons,  and 
little  else ; and  for  our  lands,  thou  seest  this  Vale  in  the  howl- 
ing wilderness  and  how  narrow  and  poor  it  is,  though  it  hath 
been  the  nurse  of  warriors  in  time  past. 

‘ Hearken  ! Time  long  ago  came  the  kindred  of  the  Wolf 
to  these  Mountains  of  the  World  ; and  they  were  in  a pass  in 
the  stony  maze  and  the  utter  wilderness  of  the  Mountains,  and 
the  foe  was  behind  them  in  numbers  not  to  be  borne  up  against. 
And  so  it  befell  that  the  pass  forked,  and  there  were  two  ways 
before  our  Folk  ; and  one  part  of  them  would  take  the  way  to 
the  north  and  the  other  the  way  to  the  south ; and  they  could 
not  agree  which  way  the  whole  Folk  should  take.  So  they 
sundered  into  two  companies,  and  one  took  one  way  and  one 
another.  Now  as  to  those  who  fared  by  the  southern  road,  we 
knew  not  what  befell  them,  nor  for  long  and  long  had  we  any 
tale  of  them. 

* But  we  who  took  the  northern  road,  we  happened  on  this 
Vale  amidst  the  wilderness,  and  we  were  weary  of  fleeing  from 
the  over-mastering  foe ; and  the  dale  seemed  enough,  and  a 
refuge,  and  a place  to  dwell  in,  and  no  man  was  there  before  us, 
and  few  were  like  to  find  it,  and  we  were  but  a few.  So  we 
dwelt  here  in  this  Vale  for  as  wild  as  it  is,  the  place  where  the 
sun  shineth  never  in  the  winter,  and  scant  is  the  summer  sun- 
shine therein.  Here  we  raised  a Doom-ring  and  builded  us  a 
Hall,  wherein  thou  now  sittest  beside  me,  O friend,  and  we 
dwelt  here  many  seasons. 

‘ We  had  a few  sheep  in  the  wilderness,  and  a few  neat  fed 
down  the  grass  of  the  Vale  ; and  we  found  gems  and  copper  in 
the  rocks  about  us  wherewith  at  whiles  to  chaifer  with  the  aliens, 
and  fish  we  drew  from  our  river  the  Shivering  Flood.  Also  it 
is  not  to  be  hidden  that  in  those  days  we  did  not  spare  to  lift 
the  goods  of  men ; yea,  whiles  would  our  warriors  fare  down 
unto  the  edges  of  the  Plain  and  lie  in  wait  there  till  the  time 
served,  and  then  drive  the  spoil  from  under  the  very  walls  of  the 

113  a 


The  Men  oi 
the  Wolf  first 
come  to 
Shadowy 
Vale. 


They  win  Cities.  Our  men  were  not  little-hearted,  nor  did  our  women 
Silver-dale.  lament  the  death  of  warriors  over-much,  for  they  were  there  to 
bear  more  warriors  to  the  Folk. 

‘ But  the  seasons  passed,  and  the  Folk  multiplied  in  Shadowy 
Vale,  and  livelihood  seemed  like  to  fail  them,  and  needs  must 
they  seek  wider  lands.  So  by  ways  which  thou  wilt  one  day 
wot  of,  we  came  into  a valley  that  lieth  north-west  of  Shadowy 
Vale  : a land  like  thine  of  Burgdale,  or  better  ; wide  it  was, 
plenteous  of  grass  and  trees,  well  watered,  full  of  all  things  that 
man  can  desire. 

‘ Were  there  men  before  us  in  this  Dale  ? sayest  thou.  Yea, 
but  not  very  many,  and  they  feeble  in  battle,  weak  of  heart, 
though  strong  of  body.  These,  when  they  saw  the  Sons  of  the 
Wolf  with  weapons  in  their  hands,  felt  themselves  puny  before 
us,  and  their  hearts  failed  them  ; and  they  came  to  us  with  gifts, 
and  offered  to  share  the  Dale  between  them  and  us,  for  they  said 
there  was  enough  for  both  folks.  So  we  took  their  offer  and 
became  their  friends  ; and  some  of  our  Houses  wedded  wives  of 
the  strangers,  and  gave  them  their  women  to  wife.  Therein 
they  did  amiss  ; for  the  blended  Folk  as  the  generations  passed 
became  softer  than  our  blood,  and  many  were  untrusty  and 
greedy  and  tyrannous,  and  the  days  of  the  whoredom  fell  upon  us, 
and  when  we  deemed  ourselves  the  mightiest  then  were  we  the 
nearest  to  our  fall.  But  the  House  whereof  I am  would  never 
wed  with  these  Westlanders,  and  other  Houses  there  were  who 
had  affinity  with  us  who  chiefly  wedded  with  us  of  the  Wolf, 
and  their  fathers  had  come  with  ours  into  that  fruitful  Dale  ; 
and  these  were  called  the  Red  Hand,  and  the  Silver  Arm,  and 
the  Golden  Bushel,  and  the  Ragged  Sword.  Thou  hast  heard 
those  names  once  before,  friend  ? ’ 

‘Yea,’  he  said,  and  as  he  spoke  the  picture  of  that  other 
day  came  back  to  him,  and  he  called  to  mind  all  that  he  had 
said,  and  his  happiness  of  that  hour  seemed  the  more  and  the 
sweeter  for  that  memory. 

114 


She  went  on  : ‘Fair  and  goodly  is  that  Dale  as  mine  own  eyes  The  Aliens, 
have  seen,  and  plentiful  of  all  things,  and  up  in  its  mountains  to  the 
east  are  caves  and  pits  whence  silver  is  digged  abundantly ; therefore 
is  the  Dale  called  Silver-dale.  Hast  thou  heard  thereof,  my  friend  ? ’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ though  I have  marvelled  whence 
ye  gat  such  foison  of  silver.' 

He  looked  on  her  and  marvelled,  for  now  she  seemed  as  if  it 
were  another  woman  : her  eyes  were  gleaming  bright,  her  lips 
were  parted  ; there  was  a bright  red  flush  on  the  pommels  of  her 
two  cheeks  as  she  spake  again  and  said  : 

‘ Happy  lived  the  Folk  in  Silver-dale  for  many  and  many 
winters  and  summers  : the  seasons  were  good  and  no  lack  was 
there  : little  sickness  there  was  and  less  war,  and  all  seemed 
better  than  well.  It  is  strange  that  ye  Dalesmen  have  not  heard 
of  Silver-dale.’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  he,  ‘ but  I have  not ; of  Rose-dale  have  I heard, 
as  a land  very  far  away  : but  no  further  do  we  know  of  toward 
that  airt.  Lieth  Silver-dale  anywhere  nigh  to  Rose-dale  ? ’ 

She  said  : ‘ It  is  the  next  dale  to  it,  yet  is  it  a far  journey 
betwixt  the  two,  for  the  ice-sea  pusheth  a horn  in  betwixt  them  ; 
and  even  below  the  ice  the  mountain-neck  is  passable  to  none 
save  a bold  crag-climber,  and  to  him  only  bearing  his  life  in  his 
hands.  But,  m}^  friend,  I am  but  lingering  over  my  tale,  be- 
cause it  grieveth  me  sore  to  have  to  tell  it.  Hearken  then  ! In 
the  da}"s  when  I had  seen  but  ten  summers,  and  my  brother  was 
a very  young  man,  but  exceeding  strong,  and  as  beautiful  as 
thou  art  now,  war  fell  on  us  without  rumour  or  warning;  for 
there  swarmed  into  Silver-dale,  though  not  by  the  ways  whereby 
we  had  entered  it,  a host  of  aliens,  short  of  stature,  crooked  of 
limb,  foul  of  aspect,  but  fierce  warriors  and  armed  full  well  : 
they  were  men  having  no  country  to  go  back  to,  though  they 
had  no  women  or  children  with  them,  as  we  had  when  we  were 
young  in  these  lands,  but  used  all  women  whom  they  took  as 
their  beastly  lust  bade  them,  making  them  their  thralls  if  they 

115 


The  Great  slew  them  not.  Soon  we  found  that  these  foemen  asked  no  more 
Undoing.  of  US  than  all  we  had,  and  therewithal  our  lives  to  be  cast  away 
or  used  for  their  service  as  beasts  of  burden  or  pleasure.  There 
then  we  gathered  our  fighting-men  and  withstood  them  ; and  if 
we  had  been  all  of  the  kindreds  of  the  Wolf  and  the  fruit  of  the 
wives  of  warriors,  we  should  have  driven  back  these  felons  and 
saved  the  Dale,  though  it  maybe  more  than  half  ruined  : but  the 
most  part  of  us  were  of  that  mingled  blood,  or  of  the  generations 
of  the  Dalesmen  whom  we  had  conquered  long  ago,  and  stout  as 
they  were  of  body  their  hearts  failed  them,  and  they  gave  them- 
selves up  to  the  aliens  to  be  as  their  oxen  and  asses. 

‘ Why  make  a long  tale  of  it  ? We  who  were  left,  and  could 
brook  death  but  not  thraldom,  fought  it  out  together,  women 
as  well  as  men,  till  the  sweetness  of  life  and  a happy  chance  for 
escape  bid  us  flee,  vanquished  but  free  men.  For  at  the  end  of 
three  days’  fight  we  had  been  driven  up  to  the  easternmost  end 
of  the  Dale,  and  up  anigh  to  the  jaws  of  the  pass  whereby  the 
Folk  had  first  come  into  Silver-dale,  and  we  had  those  with  us 
who  knew  every  cranny  of  that  way,  while  to  strangers  who  knew 
it  not  it  was  utterly  impassable ; night  was  coming  on  also,  and 
even  those  murder-carles  were  weary  with  slaying  ; and,  more- 
over, on  this  last  day,  when  they  saw  that  they  had  won  all,  they 
were  fighting  to  keep,  and  not  to  slay,  and  a few  stubborn  carles 
and  queens,  of  what  use  would  they  be,  or  where  was  the  gain 
of  risking  life  to  win  them  ? 

^ So  they  forbore  us,  and  night  came  on  moonless  and  dark  ; and 
it  was  the  early  spring  season,when  the  days  are  not  yet  long,  and  so 
by  night  and  cloud  we  fled  away,  and  back  again  to  Shadowy  Vale. 

‘ Forsooth,  we  were  but  a few ; for  when  we  were  gotten  into 
this  Vale,  this  strip  of  grass  and  water  in  the  wilderness,  and  had 
told  up  our  company,  we  were  but  two  hundred  and  thirty  and  five 
of  men  and  women  and  children.  For  there  were  an  hundred  and 
thirty  and  three  grown  men  of  all  ages,  and  of  women  grown  seventy 
and  five,  and  one  score  and  seven  children,  whereof  I was  one; 

1 16 


for,  as  thou  mayst  deem,  it  was  easier  for  grown  men  with  wea- 
pons in  their  hands  to  escape  from  that  slaughter  than  for  women 
and  children. 

‘ There  sat  we  in  yonder  Doom-ring  and  took  counsel,  and  to 
some  it  seemed  good  that  we  should  all  dwell  together  in  Shadowy 
Vale,  and  beset  the  skirts  of  the  foemen  till  the  days  should  better; 
but  others  deemed  that  there  was  little  avail  therein ; and  there 
was  a mighty  man  of  the  kindred.  Stone-wolf  by  name,  a man  of 
middle-age,  and  he  said,  that  late  in  life  had  he  tasted  of  war, 
and  though  the  banquet  was  made  bitter  with  defeat,  yet  did  the 
meat  seem  wholesome  to  him.  Come  down  with  me  to  the 
Cities  of  the  Plain,”  said  he,  ‘‘all  you  who  are  stout  warriors; 
and  leave  we  here  the  old  men  and  the  swains  and  the  women 
and  children.  Hateful  are  the  folk  there,  and  full  of  malice,  but 
soft  withal  and  dastardly.  Let  us  go  down  thither  and  make  our- 
selves strong  amongst  them,  and  sell  our  valour  for  their  wealth 
till  we  come  to  rule  them,  and  they  make  us  their  kings,  and  we 
establish  the  Folk  of  the  Wolf  amongst  the  aliens  ; then  will  we 
come  back  hither  and  bring  away  that  which  we  have  left.” 

‘ So  he  spake,  and  the  more  part  of  the  warriors  yeasaid  his 
rede,  and  they  went  with  him  to  the  Westland,  and  amongst  these 
was  my  brother  Folk-might  (for  that  is  his  name  in  the  kindred). 
And  I sorrowed  at  his  departure,  for  he  had  borne  me  thither  out 
of  the  flames  and  the  clash  of  swords  and  the  press  of  battle,  and 
to  me  had  he  ever  been  kind  and  loving,  albeit  he  hath  had  the 
words  of  hard  and  froward  used  on  him  full  oft. 

‘So  in  this  Vale  abode  we  that  were  left,  and  the  seasons  passed; 
some  of  the  elders  died,  and  some  of  the  children  also  ; but  more 
children  were  born,  for  amongst  us  were  men  and  women  to  whom 
it  was  lawful  to  wed  with  each  other.  Even  with  this  scanty  rem- 
nant was  left  some  of  the  life  of  the  kindred  of  old  days ; and 
after  we  had  been  here  but  a little  while,  the  young  men,  yea  and 
the  old  also,  and  even  some  of  the  women,  would  steal  through 
the  passes  that  we,  and  we  only,  knew  of,  and  would  fall  upon 

117 


Redes  in 
Shadowy 
Vale. 


Life  in 

Shadowy 

Vale. 


the  Aliens  in  Silver-dale  as  occasion  served,  and  lift  their  goods 
both  live  and  dead ; and  this  became  both  a craft  and  a pastime 
amongst  us.  Nor  may  I hide  that  we  sometimes  went  lifting 
otherwhere ; for  in  the  summer  and  autumn  we  would  fare  west  a 
little  and  abide  in  the  woods  the  season  through,  and  hunt  the 
deer  thereof,  and  whiles  would  we  drive  the  spoil  from  the  scat- 
tered folk  not  far  from  your  Shepherd-Folk  ; but  with  the  Shep- 
herds themselves  and  with  you  Dalesmen  we  meddled  not. 

‘ Now  that  little  wood-lawn  with  the  toft  of  an  ancient  dwell- 
ing in  it,  wherein,  saith  Bow-may,  thou  didst  once  rest,  was  one 
of  our  summer  abodes  ; and  later  on  we  built  the  hall  under  the 
pine-wood  that  thou  knowest. 

‘ Thus  then  grew  up  our  young  men ; and  our  maids  were  little 
softer;  e’en  such  as  Bow-may  is  (and  kind  is  she  withal),  and  it 
seemed  in  very  sooth  as  if  the  Spirit  of  the  Wolf  was  with  us, 
and  the  roughness  of  the  Waste  made  us  fierce;  and  law  we  had 
not  and  heeded  not,  though  love  was  amongst  us.’ 

She  stopped  awhile  and  fell  a-musing,  and  her  face  softened, 
and  she  turned  to  him  with  that  sweet  happy  look  upon  it  and  said : 

‘ Desolate  and  dreary  is  the  Dale,  thou  deemest,  friend  ; and 
yet  for  me  I love  it  and  its  dark-green  water,  and  it  is  to  me  as 
if  the  Fathers  of  the  kindred  visit  it  and  hold  converse  with  us; 
and  there  I grew  up  when  I was  little,  before  I knew  what  a woman 
was,  and  strange  communings  had  I with  the  wilderness.  Friend, 
when  we  are  wedded,  and  thou  art  a great  chieftain,  as  thou  wilt 
be,  I shall  ask  of  thee  the  boon  to  suffer  me  to  abide  here  at  whiles 
that  I may  remember  the  days  when  I was  little  and  the  love  of 
the  kindred  waxed  in  me.’ 

‘ This  is  but  a little  thing  to  ask,’  said  Face-of-god  ; ^ I would 
thou  hadst  asked  me  more.’ 

‘ Fear  not,’  she  said,  ‘ I shall  ask  thee  for  much  and  many 
things  ; and  some  of  them  belike  thou  shalt  deny  me.’ 

He  shook  his  head ; but  she  smiled  in  his  face  and  said  : 

‘ Yea,  so  it  is,  friend  ; but  hearken.  The  seasons  passed,  and 

ii8 


six  years  wore,  and  I was  grown  a tall  slim  maiden,  fleet  of  foot 
and  able  to  endure  toil  enough,  though  I never  bore  weapons,  nor 
have  done.  So  on  a fair  even  of  midsummer  when  we  were  to- 
gether, the  most  of  us,  round  about  this  Hall  and  the  Doom-ring, 
we  saw  a tall  man  in  bright  war-gear  come  forth  into  the  Dale  by 
the  path  that  thou  earnest,  and  then  another  and  another  till  there 
were  two  score  and  seven  men-at-arms  standing  on  the  grass  below 
the  scree  yonder  ; by  that  time  had  we  gotten  some  weapons  in  our 
hands,  and  we  stood  together  to  meet  the  new-comers,  but  they  drew 
no  sword  and  notched  no  shaft,  but  came  towards  us  laughing  and 
joyous,  and  lo!  it  was  my  brother  Folk-might  and  his  men,  those 
that  were  left  of  them,  come  back  to  us  from  the  Westland. 

^ Glad  indeed  was  I to  behold  him  ; and  for  him  when  he  had 
taken  me  in  his  arms  and  looked  up  and  down  the  Dale,  he  cried 
out : ‘ In  many  fair  places  and  many  rich  dwellings  have  I been ; 
but  this  is  the  hour  that  I have  looked  for.’ 

‘ Now  when  we  asked  him  concerning  Stone-wolf  and  the  others 
who  were  missing  (for  ten  tens  of  stalwarth  men  had  fared  to  the 
Westland),  he  swept  out  his  hand  toward  the  west  and  said  with 
a solemn  face  : “ There  they  lie,  and  grass  groweth  over  their 
bones,  and  we  who  have  come  aback,  and  ye  who  have  abided, 
these  are  now  the  children  of  the  Wolf : there  are  no  more  now 
on  the  earth.” 

‘ Let  be  ! It  was  a fair  even  and  high  was  the  feast  in  the  Hall 
that  night,  and  sweet  was  the  converse  with  our  folk  come  back. 
A glad  man  was  my  brother  Folk-might  when  he  heard  that  for 
years  past  we  had  been  lifting  the  gear  of  men,  and  chiefly  of  the 
Aliens  in  Silver-dale  : and  he  himself  was  become  learned  in  war 
and  a deft  leader  of  men. 

‘ So  the  days  passed  and  the  seasons,  and  we  lived  on  as  we 
might ; but  with  Folk-might’s  return  there  began  to  grow  up  in 
all  our  hearts  what  had  long  been  flourishing  in  mine,  and  that 
was  the  hope  of  one  day  winning  back  our  own  again,  and  dying 
amidst  the  dear  groves  of  Silver-dale.  Within  these  years  we  had 

1 19 


The  return  of 
the  warriors. 


The  Hope 
ariseth. 


increased  somewhat  in  number ; for  if  we  had  lost  those  warriors 
in  the  Westland,  and  some  old  men  who  had  died  in  the  Dale, 
yet  our  children  had  grown  up  (I  have  now  seen  twenty  and  one 
summers)  and  more  were  growing  up.  Moreover,  after  the  first 
year,  from  the  time  when  we  began  to  fall  upon  the  Dusky  Men  of 
Silver-dale,  from  time  to  time  they  who  went  on  such  adventures  set 
free  such  thralls  of  our  blood  as  they  could  fall  in  with  and  whom 
they  could  trust  in,  and  they  dwelt  (and  yet  dwell)  with  us  in  the 
Dale  : first  and  last  we  have  taken  in  three  score  and  twelve  of 
such  men,  and  a score  of  women-thralls  withal. 

^ Now  during  these  seasons,  and  not  very  long  ago,  after  I was 
a woman  grown,  the  thought  came  to  me,  and  to  Folk-might  also, 
that  there  were  kindreds  of  the  people  dwelling  anear  us  whom 
we  might  so  deal  with  that  they  should  become  our  friends  and 
brothers  in  arms,  and  that  through  them  we  might  win  back 
Silver-dale. 

‘ Of  Rose-dale  we  wotted  already  that  the  Folk  were  nought 
of  our  blood,  feeble  in  the  field,  cowed  by  the  Dusky  Men,  and 
at  last  made  thralls  to  them  ; so  nought  was  to  do  there.  But 
Folk-might  went  to  and  fro  to  gather  tidings : at  whiles  I with 
him,  at  whiles  one  or  more  of  Wood-father’s  children,  who  with 
their  father  and  mother  and  Bow-may  have  abided  in  the  Vale  ever 
since  the  Great  Undoing. 

‘ Soon  he  fell  in  with  thy  Folk,  and  first  of  all  with  the  Wood- 
landers,  and  that  was  a Joy  to  him  ; for  wot  ye  what  ? He  got 
to  know  that  these  men  were  the  children  of  those  of  our  Folk 
who  had  sundered  from  us  in  the  mountain  passes  time  long  and 
long  ago ; and  he  loved  them,  for  he  saw  that  they  were  hardy 
and  trusty,  and  warriors  at  heart. 

‘ Then  he  went  amongst  the  Shepherd-Folk,  and  he  deemed  them 
good  men  easily  stirred,  and  deemed  that  they  might  soon  be  won 
to  friendship  ; and  he  knew  that  they  were  mostly  come  from  the 
Houses  of  the  Woodlanders,  so  that  they  also  were  of  the  kindred, 

‘ And  last  he  came  into  Burgdale,  and  found  there  a merry 

120 


and  happy  Folk,  little  wont  to  war,  but  stout-hearted,  and  no- 
wise puny  either  of  body  or  soul ; he  went  there  often  and  learned 
much  about  them,  and  deemed  that  they  would  not  be  hard  to 
win  to  fellowship.  And  he  found  that  the  House  of  the  Face 
was  the  chiefest  house  there ; and  that  the  Alderman  and  his  sons 
were  well  beloved  of  all  the  folk,  and  that  they  were  the  men  to 
be  won  first,  since  through  them  should  all  others  be  won.  I also 
went  to  Burgstead  with  him  twice,  as  I told  thee  erst ; and  I saw 
thee,  and  I deemed  that  thou  wouldest  lightly  become  our  friend; 
and  it  came  into  my  mind  that  I myself  might  wed  thee,  and  that 
the  House  of  the  Face  thereby  might  have  affinity  thenceforth 
with  the  Children  of  the  Wolf’ 

He  said  : ‘ Why  didst  thou  deem  thus  of  me,  O friend  ? ’ 

She  laughed  and  said  : ‘ Dost  thou  long  to  hear  me  say  the 
wordswhenthouknowest  my  thought  well?  So  be  it.  I saw  thee 
both  young  and  fair  ; and  I knew  thee  to  be  the  son  of  a noble, 
worthy,  guileless  man  and  of  a beauteous  woman  of  great  wits 
and  good  rede.  And  I found  thee  to  be  kind  and  open-handed 
and  simple  like  thy  father,  and  like  thy  mother  wiser  than  thou 
thyself  knew  of  thyself ; and  that  thou  wert  desirous  of  deeds  and 
fain  of  women.’ 

She  was  silent  for  a while,  and  he  also  : then  he  said  : ‘ Didst 
thou  draw  me  to  the  woods  and  to  thee  ? ’ 

She  reddened  and  said  : ^ I am  no  spell-wife  : but  true  it  is 
that  Wood-mothermadea  waxen imageof  thee,  and  thrust  through 
the  heart  thereof  the  pin  of  my  girdle-buckle,  and  stroked  it  every 
morning  with  an  oak-bough  over  which  she  had  sung  spells.  But 
dost  thou  not  remember.  Gold-mane,  how  that  one  day  last  Hay- 
month,  as  ye  were  resting  in  the  meadows  in  the  cool  of  the  evening, 
there  came  to  you  a minstrel  that  played  to  you  on  the  fiddle,  and 
therewith  sang  a song  that  melted  all  your  hearts,  and  that  this 
song  told  of  the  Wild-wood,  and  what  was  therein  of  desire  and 
peril  and  beguiling  and  death,  and  love  unto  Death  itself?  Dost 
thou  remember,  friend  ? ’ 

I2I  R 


The  spells 
of  Wood- 
mother. 


The  cause  of 
Folk-might’s 
onslaught. 


^ Yea,’  he  said,  ‘ and  how  when  the  minstrel  was  done  Stone- 
face  fell  to  telling  us  more  tales  yet  of  the  woodland,  and  the 
minstrel  sang  again  and  yet  again,  till  his  tales  had  entered  into 
my  very  heart/ 

‘ Yea,’  she  said,  ‘ and  that  minstrel  wasWood-wont;  and  I sent 
him  to  sing  to  thee  and  thine,  deeming  that  if  thou  didst  hearken, 
thou  would’ St  seek  the  woodland  and  happen  upon  us  ? ’ 

He  laughed  and  said  : ‘ Thou  didst  not  doubt  but  that  if  we 
met,  thou  mightest  do  with  me  as  thou  wouldest  ? ’ 

‘ So  it  is,’  she  said,  ‘ that  I doubted  it  little.’ 

‘Therein  wert  thou  wise,’  said  Face-of-god;  ‘but  now  that 
we  are  talking  without  guile  to  each  other,  mightest  thou  tell  me 
wherefore  it  was  that  Folk-might  made  that  onslaught  upon  me  ? 
For  certain  it  is  that  he  was  minded  to  slay  me.’ 

She  said : ‘ It  was  sooth  what  I told  thee,  that  whiles  he  groweth 
so  battle-eager  that  whatso  edge-tool  he  beareth  must  needs  come 
out  of  the  scabbard  ; but  there  was  more  in  it  than  that,  which  I 
could  not  tell  thee  erst.  Two  days  before  thy  coming  he  had 
been  down  to  Burgstead  in  the  guise  of  an  old  carle  such  as  thou 
sawest  him  with  me  in  the  market-place.  There  was  he  guested 
in  your  Hall,  and  once  more  saw  thee  and  the  Bride  together  ; 
and  he  saw  the  eyes  of  love  wherewith  she  looked  on  thee  (for 
so  much  he  told  me),  and  deemed  that  thou  didst  take  her  love  but 
lightly.  And  he  himself  looked  on  her  with  such  love  (and  this 
he  told  me  not)  that  he  deemed  nought  good  enough  for  her,  and 
would  have  had  thee  give  thyself  up  wholly  to  her;  for  my 
brother  is  a generous  man,  my  friend.  So  when  I told  him  on 
the  morn  of  that  day  whereon  we  met  that  we  looked  to  see  thee 
that  eve  (for  indeed  I am  somewhat  foreseeing),  he  said  : “ Look 
thou.  Sun-beam,  if  he  cometh,  it  is  not  unlike  that  I shall  drive  a 
spear  through  him.”  “Wherefore?”  said  I;  “can  he  serve  our 
turn  when  he  is  dead  ? ” Said  he  : “I  care  little.  Mine  own 
turn  will  I serve.  Thou  sayest  Wherefore?  I tell  thee  this  strip- 
ling  beguileth  to  her  torment  the  fairest  woman  that  is  in  the 

122 


world — such  an  one  as  is  meet  to  be  the  mother  of  chieftains,  and  Face-of-god 
to  stand  by  warriors  in  their  day  of  peril.  I have  seen  her;  and  angry, 
thus  have  I seen  her.’’  Then  said  I ; “ Greatly  forsooth  shalt  thou 
pleasure  her  by  slaying  him  ! ” And  he  answered  : ‘‘I  shall  plea- 
sure myself.  And  one  day  she  shall  thank  me,  when  she  taketh  my 
hand  in  hers  and  we  go  together  to  the  Bride-bed.”  Therewith 
came  over  me  a clear  foresight  of  the  hours  to  come,  and  I said  to 
him : ‘‘Yea,  Folk-might,  cast  the  spear  and  draw  the  sword ; but 
him  thou  shalt  not  slay : and  thou  shalt  one  day  see  him  standing 
with  us  before  the  shafts  of  the  Dusky  Men.”  So  I spake ; but  he 
looked  fiercely  at  me,  and  departed  and  shunned  me  all  that  day, 
and  by  good  hap  I was  hard  at  hand  when  thou  drewest  nigh  our 
abode.  Nay,  Gold-mane,  what  would’ st  thou  with  thy  sword  ? 

Why  art  thou  so  red  and  wrathful  ? Would’ st  thou  fight  with  my 
brother  because  he  loveth  thy  friend,  thine  old  playmate,  thy  kins- 
woman, and  thinketh  pity  of  her  sorrow  ? ’ 

He  said,  with  knit  brow  and  gleaming  eyes : ‘Would  the  man 
take  her  away  from  me  perforce  ? ’ 

‘ My  friend,’  she  said,  ‘ thou  art  not  yet  so  wise  as  not  to  be  a 
fool  at  whiles.  Is  it  not  so  that  she  herself  hath  taken  herself 
from  thee,  since  she  hath  come  to  know  that  thou  hast  given  thy- 
self to  another  ? Hath  she  noted  nought  of  thee  this  winter  and 
spring  ? Is  she  well  pleased  with  the  ways  of  thee  ? ’ 

He  said : ‘ Thou  hast  spoken  simply  with  me,  and  I will  do  no 
less  with  thee.  It  was  but  four  days  agone  that  she  did  me  to 
wit  that  she  knew  of  me  how  I sought  my  love  on  the  Mountain ; 
and  she  put  me  to  sore  shame,  and  afterwards  I wept  for  her 
sorrow.* 

Therewith  he  told  her  all  that  the  Bride  had  said  to  him,  as 
he  well  might,  for  he  had  forgotten  no  word  of  it. 

Then  said  the  Friend  : ‘ She  shall  have  the  token  that  she 
craveth,  and  it  is  I that  shall  give  it  to  her.’ 

Therewith  she  took  from  her  finger  a ring  wherein  was  set  a 
very  fair  changeful  mountain-stone,  and  gave  it  to  him,  and  said: 

123 


The  Sun- 
beam names 
herself. 


‘ Thou  shalt  give  her  this  and  tell  her  whence  thou  hadst  it; 
and  tell  her  that  I bid  her  remember  that  To-morrow  is  a new  day.’ 


CHAPTER  XX.  THOSE  TWO  TOGETHER  HOLD  THE 
RING  OF  THE  EARTH-GOD. 

And  now  they  fell  silent  both  of  them,  and  sat  hearkening 
the  sounds  of  the  Dale,  from  the  whistle  of  the  plover 
down  by  the  water-side  to  the  far-off  voices  of  the  children 
and  maidens  about  the  kine  in  the  lower  meadows.  At  last  Gold- 
mane  took  up  the  word  and  said  : 

‘ Sweet  friend,  tell  me  the  uttermost  of  what  thou  would’ st  have 
of  me.  Is  it  not  that  I should  stand  by  thee  and  thine  in  the  Folk- 
mote  of  the  Dalesmen,  and  speak  for  you  when  ye  pray  us  for 
help  against  your  foemen;  and  then  again  that  I do  my  best  when 
ye  and  we  are  arrayed  for  battle  against  the  Dusky  Men?  This 
is  easy  to  do,  and  great  is  the  reward  thou  offerest  m.e.’ 

‘ I look  for  this  service  of  thee,’  she  said,  ‘ and  none  other.’ 

‘ And  when  I go  down  to  the  battle,’  said  he,  ‘ shalt  thou  be 
sorry  for  our  sundering  ? ’ 

She  said : ‘ There  shall  be  no  sundering ; I shall  wend  with  thee.’ 
Said  he  : ‘ And  if  I were  slain  in  the  battle,  would’ st  thou 
lament  me  ? ’ 

‘ Thou  shalt  not  be  slain,’  she  said. 

Again  was  there  silence  betwixt  them,  till  at  last  he  said  : 

^ This  then  is  why  thou  didst  draw  me  to  thee  in  the  Wild-wood?’ 
‘ Yea,’  said  she. 

Again  for  a while  no  word  was  spoken,  and  Face-of-god  looked 
on  her  till  she  cast  her  eyes  down  before  him. 

Then  at  last  he  spake,  and  the  colour  came  and  went  in  his 
face  as  he  said  : ‘Tell  me  thy  name  what  it  is.’ 

She  said  : ‘ I am  called  the  Sun-beam.’ 

Then  he  said,  and  his  voice  trembled  therewith : ‘ O Sun-beam, 
I have  been  seeking  pleasant  and  cunning  words,  and  can  find 

124 


none  such.  But  tell  me  this  if  thou  wilt : dost  thou  desire  me  as 
I desire  thee  ? or  is  it  that  thou  wilt  suffer  me  to  wed  thee  and 
bed  thee  at  last  as  mere  payment  for  the  help  that  I shall  give  to 
thee  and  thine?  Nay,  doubt  it  not  that  I will  take  the  payment, 
if  this  is  what  thou  wilt  give  me  and  nought  else.  Yet  tell  me.* 

Her  face  grew  troubled,  and  she  said  : 

‘ Gold-mane,  maybe  that  thou  hast  now  asked  me  one  question 
too  many  ; for  this  is  no  fair  game  to  be  played  between  us.  For 
thee,  as  I deem,  there  are  this  day  but  two  people  in  the  world, 
and  that  is  thou  and  I,  and  the  earth  is  for  us  two  alone.  But, 
my  friend,  though  I have  seen  but  twenty  and  one  summers,  it  is 
nowise  so  with  me,  and  to  me  there  are  many  in  the  world ; and 
chiefly  the  Folk  of  the  Wolf,  amidst  whose  very  heart  I have 
grown  up.  Moreover,  I can  think  of  her  whom  I have  supplanted, 
the  Bride  to  wit ; and  I know  her,  and  how  bitter  and  empty 
her  days  shall  be  for  a while,  and  how  vain  all  our  redes  for  her 
shall  seem  to  her.  Yea,  1 know  her  sorrow,  and  see  it  and  grieve 
for  it : so  canst  not  thou,  unless  thou  verily  see  her  before  thee, 
her  face  unhappy,  and  her  voice  changed  and  hard.  Well,  I will 
tell  thee  what  thou  askest.  When  I drew  thee  to  me  on  the  Moun- 
tain I thought  but  of  the  friendship  and  brotherhood  to  be  knitted 
up  between  our  two  Folks,  nor  did  I anywise  desire  thy  love  of 
a young  man.  But  when  I saw  thee  on  the  heath  and  in  the 
Hall  that  day,  it  pleased  me  to  think  that  a man  so  fair  and 
chieftain-like  should  one  day  lie  by  my  side ; and  again  when  I 
saw  that  the  love  of  me  had  taken  hold  of  thee,  I would  not  have 
thee  grieved  because  of  me,  but  would  have  thee  happy.  And 
now  what  shall  I say? — I know  not;  I cannot  tell.  Yet  am  I 
the  Friend,  as  erst  I called  myself. 

* And,  Gold-mane,  I have  seen  hitherto  but  the  outward  show 
and  image  of  thee,  and  though  that  be  goodly,  how  would  it  be 
if  thou  didst  shame  me  with  little-heartedness  and  evil  deeds  ? Let 
me  see  thee  in  the  Folk-mote  and  the  battle,  and  then  may  I 
answer  thee.* 


The  wisdom 
of  the  Sun- 
beam. 


125 


The  love  of  Then  she  held  her  peace,  and  he  answered  nothing  ; and  she 
the  Sun-beam,  turned  her  face  from  him  and  said  : 

‘ Out  on  it ! have  I beguiled  myself  as  well  as  thee  ? These  are 
but  empty  words  I have  been  saying.  If  thou  wilt  drag  the  truth 
out  of  me,  this  is  the  very  truth  : that  to-day  is  happy  to  me  as 
it  is  to  thee,  and  that  J have  longed  sore  for  its  coming.  O Gold- 
mane,  O speech-friend,  if  thou  wert  to  pray  me  or  command  me 
that  I lie  in  thine  arms  to-night,  I should  know  not  how  to  gain- 
say thee.  Yet  I beseech  thee  to  forbear,  lest  thy  death  and  mine 
come  of  it.  And  why  should  we  die,  O friend,  when  we  are  so 
young,  and  the  world  lies  so  fair  before  us,  and  the  happy  days 
are  at  hand  when  the  Children  of  the  Wolf  and  the  kindreds  of 
the  Dale  shall  deliver  the  Folk,  and  all  days  shall  be  good  and 
all  years  ? ’ 

They  had  both  risen  up  as  she  spake,  and  now  he  put  forth 
his  hands  to  her  and  took  her  in  his  arms,  wondering  the  while,  as 
he  drew  her  to  him,  how  much  slenderer  and  smaller  and  weaker 
she  seemed  in  his  embrace  than  he  had  thought  of  her  ; and  when 
their  lips  met,  he  felt  that  she  kissed  him  as  he  her.  Then  he  held 
her  by  the  shoulders  at  arms’  length  from  him,  and  beheld  her 
face  how  her  eyes  were  closed  and  her  lips  quivering.  But  be- 
fore him,  in  a moment  of  time,  passed  a picture  of  the  life  to  be 
in  the  fair  Dale,  and  all  she  would  give  him  there,  and  the  days 
good  and  lovely  from  morn  to  eve  and  eve  to  morn ; and  though 
in  that  moment  it  was  hard  for  him  to  speak,  at  last  he  spoke  in 
a voice  hoarse  at  first,  and  said : 

‘ Thou  sayest  sooth,  O friend  ; we  will  not  die,  but  live  ; I will 
not  drag  our  deaths  upon  us  both,  nor  put  a sword  in  the  hands 
of  Folk-might,  who  loves  me  not.’ 

Then  he  kissed  her  on  the  brow  and  said  : ‘ Now  shalt  thou 
take  me  by  the  hand  and  lead  me  forth  from  the  Hall.  For  the 
day  is  waxing  old,  and  here  meseemeth  in  this  dim  hall  there 
are  words  crossing  in  the  air  about  us — words  spoken  in  days  long 
ago,  and  tales  of  old  time,  that  keep  egging  me  on  to  do  my  will 

126 


and  die,  because  that  is  all  that  the  world  hath  for  a valiant  man ; 
and  to  such  words  I would  not  hearken,  for  in  this  hour  I have 
no  will  to  die,  nor  can  I think  of  death.’ 

She  took  his  hand  and  led  him  forth  without  more  words,  and 
they  went  hand  in  hand  and  paced  slowly  round  the  Doom-ring, 
the  light  air  breathing  upon  them  till  their  faces  were  as  calm  and 
quiet  as  their  wont  was,  and  hers  especially  as  bright  and  happy  as 
when  he  had  first  seen  her  that  day. 

The  sun  was  sinking  now,  and  only  sent  one  golden  ray  into 
the  valley  through  a cleft  in  the  western  rock-wall,  but  the  sky 
overhead  was  bright  and  clear  ; from  the  meadows  came  the  sound 
of  the  lowing  of  kine  and  the  voices  of  children  a-sporting,  and 
it  seemed  to  Gold-mane  that  they  were  drawing  nigher,  both  the 
children  and  the  kine,  and  somewhat  hebegrudged  it  that  he  should 
not  be  alone  with  the  Friend. 

Now  when  they  had  made  half  the  circuit  of  the  Doom-ring, 
the  Sun-beam  stopped  him,  and  then  led  him  through  the  Ring 
of  Stones,  and  brought  him  up  to  the  altar  which  was  amidst  of 
it ; and  the  altar  was  a great  black  stone  hewn  smooth  and  clean, 
and  with  the  image  of  the  Wolf  carven  on  the  front  thereof ; and 
on  its  face  lay  the  gold  ring  which  the  priest  or  captain  of  the 
Folk  bore  on  his  arm  between  the  God  and  the  people  at  all 
folk-motes. 

So  she  said  : ‘ This  is  the  altar  of  the  God  of  Earth,  and  often 
hath  it  been  reddened  by  mighty  men  ; and  thereon  lieth  the  Ring 
of  the  Sons  of  the  Wolf ; and  now  it  were  well  that  we  swore 
troth  on  that  ring  before  my  brother  cometh  ; for  now  will  he  soon 
be  here.’ 

Then  Gold-mane  took  the  Ring  and  thrust  his  right  hand 
through  it,  and  took  her  right  hand  in  his ; so  that  the  Ring  lay 
on  both  their  hands,  and  therewith  he  spake  aloud  : 

‘ I am  Face-of-godof  the  House  of  the  Face,  and  I do  thee  to 
wit,  O God  of  the  Earth,  that  I pledge  my  troth  to  this  woman, 
the  Sun-beam  of  the  Kindred  of  the  Wolf,  to  beget  my  offspring 

127 


The  troth  on  her,  and  to  live  with  her,  and  to  die  with  her  : so  help  me, 
plighted.  thou  God  of  the  Earth,  and  the  Warrior  and  the  God  of  the 
Face !’ 

Then  spake  the  Sun-beam  ; ‘I,  the  Sun-beam  of  the  Children 
of  the  Wolf,  pledge  my  troth  to  Face-of-god  to  lie  in  his  bed  and 
to  bear  his  children  and  none  other’s,  and  to  be  his  speech-friend 
till  I die  : so  help  me  the  Wolf  and  the  Warrior  and  the  God 
of  the  Earth  ! ’ 

Then  they  laid  the  Ring  on  the  altar  again,  and  they  kissed  each 
other  long  and  sweetly,  and  then  turned  away  from  the  altar  and 
departed  from  the  Doom-ring,  going  hand  in  hand  together  down 
the  meadow,  and  as  they  went,  the  noise  of  the  kine  and  the  chil- 
dren grew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  presently  came  the  whole  com- 
pany of  them  round  a ness  of  the  rock-wall ; there  were  some 
thirty  little  lads  and  lasses  driving  on  the  milch-kine,  with  half 
a score  of  older  maids  and  grown  women,  one  of  whom  was  Bow- 
may,  who  was  lightly  and  scantily  clad,  as  one  who  heeds  not 
the  weather,  or  deems  all  months  midsummer. 

The  children  came  running  up  merrily  when  they  saw  the 
Sun-beam,  but  stopped  short  shyly  when  they  noted  the  tall  fair 
stranger  with  her.  They  were  all  strong  and  sturdy  children,  and 
some  very  fair,  but  brown  with  the  weather,  if  not  with  the  sun. 
Bow-may  came  up  to  Gold-mane  and  took  his  hand  and  greeted 
him  kindly  and  said  : 

‘ So  here  thou  art  at  last  in  Shadowy  Vale  ; and  I hope  that 
thou  art  content  therewith,  and  as  happy  as  I would  wish  thee  to 
be.  Well,  this  is  the  first  time  ; and  when  thou  comest  the  second 
time  it  may  well  be  that  the  world  shall  be  growing  better.’ 

She  held  the  distaff  which  she  bore  in  her  hand  (for  she  had 
been  spinning)  as  if  it  were  a spear  ; her  limbs  were  goodly  and 
shapely,  and  she  trod  the  thick  grass  of  the  Vale  with  a kind  of 
wary  firmness,  as  though  foemen  might  be  lurking  nearby.  The 
Sun-beam  smiled  upon  her  kindly  and  said  : 

‘ That  shall  not  fail  to  be,  Bow-may : ye  have  won  a new  friend 

128 


to-day.  But  tell  me,  when  dost  thou  look  to  see  the  men  here, 
for  I was  down  by  the  water  when  they  went  away  yesterday?  ’ 

‘ They  shall  come  into  the  Dale  a little  after  sunset,’  said 
Bow-may. 

‘ Shall  I abide  them,  my  friend  ? ’ said  Gold-mane,  turning  to 
the  Sun-beam. 

‘Yea,’  she  said;  ‘for  what  else  art  thou  come  hither?  or  art 
thou  so  pressed  to  depart  from  us  ? Last  time  we  met  thou  wert 
not  so  hasty  to  sunder.’ 

They  smiled  on  each  other ; and  Bow-may  looked  on  them  and 
laughed  outright ; then  a flush  showed  in  her  cheeks  through  the 
tan  of  them,  and  she  turned  toward  the  children  and  the  other 
women  who  were  busied  about  the  milking  of  the  kine. 

But  those  two  sat  down  together  on  a bank  amidst  the  plain 
meadow,  facing  the  river  and  the  eastern  rock-wall,  and  the  Sun- 
beam said  : 

‘ I am  fain  to  speak  to  thee  and  to  see  thine  eyes  watching  me 
while  I speak  ; and  now,  my  friend,  I will  tell  thee  something 
unasked  which  has  to  do  with  what  e’en  now  thou  didst  ask 
me  ; for  I would  have  thee  trust  me  wholly,  and  know  me  for 
what  I am.  Time  was  I schemed  and  planned  for  this  day  of  be- 
trothal ; but  now  I tell  thee  it  has  become  no  longer  needful  for 
bringing  to  pass  our  fellowship  in  arms  with  thy  people.  Yea 
yesterday,  ere  he  went  on  a hunt,  whereof  he  shall  tell  thee,  Folk- 
might  was  against  it,  in  words  at  least ; and  yet  as  one  who 
would  have  it  done  if  he  might  have  no  part  in  it.  So,  in  good 
sooth,  this  hand  that  lieth  in  thine  is  the  hand  of  a wilful  woman, 
who  desireth  a man,  and  would  keep  him  for  her  speech-friend. 
Now  art  thou  fond  and  happy ; yet  bear  in  mind  that  there  are 
deeds  to  be  done,  and  the  troth  we  have  just  plighted  must  be 
paid  for.  So  hearken,  I bid  thee.  Dost  thou  care  to  know  why 
the  wheedling  of  thee  is  no  longer  needful  to  us  ? ’ 

He  said  : ‘ A little  while  ago  I should  have  said,  Yea,  if  thy 
lips  say  the  words.  But  now,  O friend,  it  seemeth  as  if  thine 

129  S 


Speech  is 
sweet  to 
them. 


Needs  must 
the  men  of 
Burgdale 
fight. 


heart  were  already  become  a part  of  mine,  and  I feel  as  if  the 
chieftain  were  growing  up  in  me  and  the  longing  for  deeds  : so 
I say,  Tell  me,  for  I were  fain  to  hear  what  toucheth  the  welfare 
of  thy  Folk  and  their  fellowship  with  my  Folk  ; for  on  that  also 
have  I set  my  heart  ? ’ 

She  said  gravely  and  with  solemn  eyes  : 

* What  thou  sayest  is  good  : full  glad  am  I that  I have  not 
plighted  my  troth  to  a mere  goodly  lad,  but  rather  to  a chieftain 
and  a warrior.  Now  then  hearken  ! Since  I saw  thee  first  in  the 
autumn  this  hath  happened,  that  the  Dusky  Men,  increasing  both 
in  numbers  and  insolence,  have  it  in  their  hearts  to  win  more  than 
Silver-dale,  and  it  is  years  since  they  have  fallen  upon  Rose-dale 
and  conquered  it,  rather  by  murder  than  by  battle,  and  made  all 
men  thralls  there,  for  feeble  were  the  Folk  thereof ; and  doubt 
it  not  but  that  they  will  look  into  Burgdale  before  long.  They 
are  already  abroad  in  the  woods,  and  were  it  not  for  the  fear  of 
the  Wolf  they  would  be  thicker  therein,  and  faring  wider  ; for 
we  have  slain  many  of  them,  coming  upon  them  unawares  ; and 
they  know  not  where  we  dwell,  nor  who  we  be  : so  they  fear  to 
spread  about  over-much  and  pry  into  unknown  places  lest  the  Wolf 
howl  on  them.  Yet  beware  ! for  they  will  gather  in  numbers  that 
we  may  not  meet,  and  then  will  they  swarm  into  the  Dale  ; and 
if  ye  would  live  your  happy  life  that  ye  love  so  well,  ye  must 
now  fight  for  it ; and  in  that  battle  must  ye  needs  join  yourselves 
to  us,  that  we  may  help  each  other.  Herein  have  ye  nought  to 
choose,  for  now  with  you  it  is  no  longer  a thing  to  talk  of  whether 
ye  will  help  certain  strangers  and  guests  and  thereby  win  some 
gain  to  yourselves,  but  whether  ye  have  the  hearts  to  fight  for 
yourselves,  and  the  wits  to  be  the  fellows  of  tall  men  and  stout 
warriors  who  have  pledged  their  lives  to  win  or  die  for  it.’ 

She  was  silent  a little  and  then  turned  and  looked  fondly  on 
Face-of-god  and  said; 

‘ Therefore,  Gold-mane,  we  need  thee  no  longer  ; for  thou  must 
needs  fight  in  our  battle.  I have  no  longer  aught  to  do  to  wheedle 

130 


thee  to  love  me.  Yet  if  thou  wilt  love  me,  then  am  I a glad 
woman.’ 

He  said : ^ Thou  wottest  well  that  thou  hast  all  my  love,  neither 
will  I fail  thee  in  the  battle.  I am  not  little-hearted,  though  I 
would  have  given  myself  to  thee  for  no  reward.’ 

‘ It  is  well,’  said  the  Sun-beam  ; ‘ nought  is  undone  by  that 
which  I have  done.  Moreover,  it  is  good  that  we  have  plighted 
troth  to-day.  For  Folk-might  will  presently  hear  thereof,  and  he 
must  needs  abide  the  thing  which  is  done.  Hearken  ! he  cometh.’ 

For  as  she  spoke  there  came  a glad  cry  from  the  women  and 
children,  and  those  two  stood  up  and  turned  toward  the  west 
and  beheld  the  warriors  of  the  Wolf  coming  down  into  the  Dale 
by  the  way  that  Gold-mane  had  come. 

^ Come,’  said  the  Sun-beam,  ‘ here  are  your  brethren  in  arms, 
let  us  go  greet  them  ; they  will  rejoice  in  thee.’ 

So  they  went  thither,  and  there  stood  eighty  and  seven  men  on 
the  grass  below  the  scree  and  Folk-might  their  captain  ; and  be- 
sides some  valiant  women,  and  a few  carles  who  were  on  watch 
on  the  waste,  and  a half  score  who  had  been  left  in  the  Dale,  these 
were  all  the  warriors  of  the  Wolf.  They  were  clad  in  no  holiday 
raiment,  not  even  Folk-might,  but  were  in  sheep-brown  gear  of 
the  coarsest,  like  to  husbandmen  late  come  from  the  plough,  but 
armed  well  and  goodly. 

But  when  the  twain  drew  near,  the  men  clashed  their  spears  on 
their  shields,  and  cried  out  for  joy  of  them,  for  they  all  knew  what 
Face-of-god’s  presence  there  betokened  of  fellowship  with  the  kin- 
dreds ; but  Folk-might  came  forward  and  took  Face-of-god’s  hand 
and  greeted  him  and  said  : 

‘ Hail,  son  of  the  Alderman!  Here  hast  thou  come  into  the 
ancient  abode  of  chieftains  and  warriors,  and  belike  deeds  await 
thee  also.’ 

Yet  his  brow  was  knitted  as  he  said  these  words,  and  he  spake 
slowly,  as  one  that  constraineth  himself ; but  presently  his  face 
cleared  somewhat  and  he  said  : 


The  warriors 
and  Folk- 
might  come 
home. 


Folk-might  ‘ Dalesman,  it  behoveth  thy  people  to  bestir  them  if  ye  would 
asketh  of  the  ifye  and  see  good  days.  Hath  my  sister  told  thee  what  is  toward? 
oath.  Qr  what  sayest  thou  ? ’ 

‘ Hail  to  thee,  son  of  the  Wolf ! ’ said  Face-of-god.  ‘ Thy  sister 
hath  told  me  all ; and  even  if  these  Dusky  Felons  were  not  our  foe- 
men  also,  yet  could  I have  my  way,  we  should  have  given  thee  all 
help,  and  should  have  brought  back  peace  and  good  days  to  thy  folk.^ 
Then  Folk-might  flushed  red  and  spake,  as  he  cast  out  his  hand 
towards  the  warriors  and  up  and  down  toward  the  Dale  : 

‘ These  be  my  folk,  and  these  only  : and  as  to  peace,  only  those 
of  us  know  of  it  who  are  old  men.  Yet  is  it  well ; and  if  we  and 
5"e  together  be  strong  enough  to  bring  back  good  days  to  the 
feeble  men  whom  the  Dusky  Ones  torment  in  Silver-dale  it  shall 
be  better  yet.’ 

Then  he  turned  about  to  his  sister,  and  looked  keenly  into  her 
eyes  till  she  reddened,  and  took  her  hand  and  looked  at  the  wrist 
and  said  : 

‘ O sister,  see  I not  the  mark  on  thy  wrist  of  the  Ring  of  the 
God  of  the  Earth?  Have  not  oaths  been  sworn  since  yesterday?’ 
‘ True  it  is,’  she  said,  ‘ that  this  man  and  I have  plighted  troth 
together  at  the  altar  of  the  Doom-ring.’ 

Said  Folk-might : ‘ Thou  wilt  have  thy  will,  and  I may  not 
amend  it.’  Therewith  he  turned  about  to  Face-of-god  and  said  : 
‘ Thou  must  look  to  it  to  keep  this  oath,  whatever  other  one 
thou  hast  failed  in.’ 

Said  Face-of-god  somewhat  wrathfully  : ‘ I shall  keep  it^ 
whether  thou  biddest  me  to  keep  it  or  break  it.’ 

‘ That  is  well,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘ and  then  for  all  that  hath 
gone  before  thou  mayest  in  a manner  pay,  if  thou  art  dauntless 
before  the  foe.’ 

‘ I look  to  be  no  blencher  in  the  battle,’  said  Face-of-god  ; ‘ that 
is  not  the  fashion  of  our  kindred,  whosoever  may  be  before  us. 
Yea,  and  even  were  it  thy  blade,  O mighty  warrior  of  the  Wolf^ 
I would  do  my  best  to  meet  it  in  manly  fashion.’ 

132 


As  he  spake  he  half  drew  forth  Dale-warden  from  his  sheath,  Counting  the 
looking  steadily  into  the  eyes  of  Folk-might;  and  the  Sun-beam  arm-rmgs. 
looked  upon  him  happily.  But  Folk-might  laughed  and  said  : 

‘ Thy  sword  is  good,  and  I deem  that  thine  heart  will  not  fail 
thee ; but  it  is  by  my  side  and  not  in  face  of  me  that  thou  shalt 
redden  the  good  blade  : I see  not  the  day  when  we  twain  shall 
hew  at  each  other.’ 

Then  in  a while  he  spake  again  : 

* Thou  must  pardon  us  if  our  words  are  rough  ; for  we  have 
stood  in  rough  places,  where  we  had  to  speak  both  short  and  loud, 
whereas  there  was  much  to  do.  But  now  will  we  twain  talk  of 
matters  that  concern  chieftains  who  are  going  on  a hard  adven- 
ture. And  ye  women,  do  ye  dight  the  Hall  for  the  evening  feast, 
which  shall  be  the  feast  of  the  troth-plight  for  you  twain.  This 
indeed  we  owe  thee,  O guest ; for  little  shall  be  thine  heritage 
which  thou  shalt  have  with  my  sister,  over  and  above  that  thy 
sword  winneth  for  thee.’ 

But  the  Sun-beam  said  ; ‘ Hast  thou  any  to-night  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,’  he  said  ; ‘ Spear-god,  how  many  was  it  ? ’ 

There  came  forward  a tall  man  bearing  an  axe  in  his  right 
hand,  and  carrying  over  his  shoulder  by  his  left  hand  a bundle 
of  silver  arm-rings  Just  such  as  Gold-mane  had  seen  on  the  felons 
who  were  slain  by  Wood-grey’s  house.  The  carle  cast  them  on 
the  ground  and  then  knelt  down  and  fell  to  telling  them  over  ; 
and  then  looked  up  and  said  : ‘Twelve  yesterday  in  the  wood 
where  the  battle  was  going  on ; and  this  morning  seven  by  the 
tarn  in  the  pine-wood  and  six  near  this  eastern  edge  of  the  wood  : 
one  score  and  five  all  told.  But,  Folk-might,  they  are  coming 
nigh  to  Shadowy  Vale.’ 

‘ Sooth  is  that,’  said  Folk-might ; ‘ but  it  shall  be  looked  to. 

Come  now  apart  with  me,  Face-of-god.’ 

So  the  others  went  their  ways  toward  the  Hall,  while  Folk- 
might  led  the  Burgdaler  to  a sheltered  nook  under  the  sheer 
rocks,  and  there  they  sat  down  to  talk,  and  Folk-might  asked 

133 


Folk-might  Gold- mane  closely  of  the  muster  of  the  Dalesmen  and  the 
speaketh  with  Shepherds  and  the  Woodland  Carles,  and  he  was  well  pleased 
P ace-of-god.  Face-of-god  told  him  of  how  many  could  march  to  a 

stricken  field,  and  of  their  archery,  and  of  their  weapons  and 
their  goodness. 

All  this  took  some  time  in  the  telling, andnow night  was  coming 
on  apace,  and  Folk-might  said  : 

‘ Now  will  it  be  time  to  go  to  the  Hall ; but  keep  in  thy  mind 
that  these  Dusky  Men  will  overrun  you  unless  ye  deal  with  them 
betimes.  These  are  of  the  kind  that  ye  must  cast  fear  into  their 
hearts  by  falling  on  them  ; for  if  ye  abide  till  they  fall  upon  you, 
they  are  like  the  winter  wolves  that  swarm  on  and  on,  how  many 
soever  ye  slay.  And  this  above  all  things  shall  help  you,  that 
we  shall  bring  you  whereas  ye  shall  fall  on  them  unawares  and 
destroy  them  as  boys  do  with  a wasp’s  nest.  Yet  shall  many  a 
mother’s  son  bite  the  dust. 

‘ Is  it  not  so  that  in  four  weeks’  time  is  your  spring-feast  and 
market  at  Burgstead,  and  thereafter  the  great  Folk-mote  ? ’ 

‘ So  it  is,’  said  Gold-mane. 

‘ Thither  shall  I come  then,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘ and  give  my- 
self out  for  the  slayer  of  Rusty  and  the  ransacker  of  Harts-bane 
and  Penny-thumb ; and  therefor  shall  I offer  good  blood-wite 
and  theft-wite  ; and  thy  father  shall  take  that ; for  he  is  a just 
man.  Then  shall  I tell  my  tale.  Yet  it  may  be  thou  shalt  see 
us  before  if  battle  betide.  And  now  fair  befall  this  new  year ; 
for  soon  shall  the  scabbards  be  empty  and  the  white  swords 
be  dancing  in  the  air,  and  spears  and  axes  shall  be  the  growth 
of  this  spring-tide.’ 

And  he  leaped  up  from  his  seat  and  walked  to  and  fro  before 
Gold-mane,  and  now  was  it  grown  quite  dark.  Then  Folk-might 
turned  to  Face-of-god  and  said  : 

‘Come,  guest,  the  windows  of  the  Hall  are  yellow ; let  us  to  the 
feast.  To-morrow  shalt  thou  get  thee  to  the  beginning  of  this 
work.  I hope  of  thee  that  thou  art  a good  sword ; else  have  I 

134 


done  a folly  and  my  sister  a worse  one.  But  now  forget  that, 
and  feast.’ 

Gold-mane  arose,  not  very  well  at  ease,  for  the  man  seemed 
overbearing;  yet  how  might  he  fall  upon  the  Sun-beam’s  kindred, 
and  the  captain  of  these  new  brethren  in  arms?  So  he  spake  not. 
But  Folk-might  said  to  him  : 

‘ Yet  I would  not  have  thee  forget  that  I was  wroth  with  thee 
when  I saw  thee  to-day;  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  coming  battle 
I had  drawn  sword  upon  thee.’ 

Then  Face-of-god’s  wrath  was  stirred,  and  he  said  : 

‘ There  is  yet  time  for  that ! but  why  art  thou  wroth  with  me  ? 
And  I shall  tell  thee  that  there  is  little  manliness  in  thy  chiding. 
For  how  may  I fight  with  thee,  thou  the  brother  of  my  plighted 
speech-friend  and  my  captain  in  this  battle  ? ’ 

^ Therein  thou  sayest  sooth,’  said  Folk-might ; ‘ but  hard  it 
was  to  see  you  two  standing  together  ; and  thou  canst  not  give 
the  Bride  to  me  as  I give  my  sister  to  thee.  For  I have  seen  her, 
and  I have  seen  her  looking  at  thee  ; and  I know  that  she  will 
not  have  it  so.’ 

Then  they  went  on  together  toward  the  Hall,  and  Face-of-god 
was  silent  and  somewhat  troubled  ; and  as  they  drew  near  to  the 
Hall,  Folk-might  spake  again  : 

^ Yet  time  may  amend  it ; and  if  not,  there  is  the  battle,  and 
maybe  the  end.  Now  be  we  merry  ! ’ 

So  they  went  into  the  Hall  together,  and  there  was  the  Sun- 
beam gloriously  arrayed,  as  erst  in  the  woodland  bower,  and  Face- 
of-god  sat  on  the  dais  beside  her,  and  the  uttermost  sweetness  of 
desire  entered  into  his  soul  as  he  noted  her  eyes  and  her  mouth, 
that  were  grown  so  kind  to  him,  and  her  hand  that  strayed  to- 
ward his. 

The  Hall  was  full  of  folk,  and  all  those  warriors  were  therewith 
Wood-father  and  his  sons,  and  Wood-mother,  and  Bow-may  and 
many  other  women  ; and  Gold-mane  looked  down  the  Hall  and 
deemed  that  he  had  never  seen  such  stalwarth  bodies  of  men,  or 

135 


They  go  into 
the  Hall. 


Healths  are 
drunk,  and 
songs  sung. 


SO  bold  and  meet  for  battle : as  for  the  women  he  had  seen  fairer 
in  Burgdale,  but  these  were  fair  of  their  own  fashion,  shapely  and 
well-knit,  and  strong-armed  and  large- limbed,  yet  sweet- voiced 
and  gentle  withal.  Nay,  the  very  lads  of  fifteen  winters  or  so, 
whereof  a few  were  there,  seemed  bold  and  bright-eyed  and  keen 
of  wit,  and  it  seemed  like  that  if  the  warriors  fared  afield  these 
would  be  with  them. 

So  wore  the  feast;  and  Folk-might  as  aforetime  amongst  the 
healths  called  on  men  to  drink  to  the  Jaws  of  the  Wolf,  and  the 
Red  Hand,  and  the  Silver  Arm,  and  the  Golden  Bushel,  and  the 
Ragged  Sword.  But  now  had  Face-of-god  no  need  to  ask  what 
these  meant,  since  he  knew  that  they  were  the  names  of  the  kin- 
dreds of  the  Wolf.  They  drank  also  to  the  troth-plight  and  to 
those  twain,  and  shouted  aloud  over  the  health  and  clashed  their 
weapons  : and  Gold-mane  wondered  what  echo  of  that  shout 
would  reach  to  Burgstead. 

Then  sang  men  songs  of  old  time,  and  amongst  them  Wood- 
wont  stood  with  his  fiddle  amidst  the  Hall  and  Bow-may  beside 
him,  and  they  sang  in  turn  to  it  sweetly  and  clearly  ; and  this  is 
some  of  what  they  sang  : 

She  singeth. 

Wild  is  the  waste  and  long  leagues  over ; 

Whither  then  wend  ye  spear  and  sword, 

Where  nought  shall  see  your  helms  but  the  plover, 

Far  and  far  from  the  dear  Dale’s  sward? 

He  singeth. 

Many  a league  shall  we  wend  together 
With  helm  and  spear  and  bended  bow. 

Hark ! how  the  wind  blows  up  for  weather  : 

Dark  shall  the  night  be  whither  we  go. 

Dark  shall  the  night  be  round  the  byre. 

And  dark  as  we  drive  the  brindled  kine ; 

136 


Dark  and  dark  round  the  beacon-fire, 

Dark  down  in  the  pass  round  our  wavering  line. 

Turn  on  thy  path,  O fair-foot  maiden, 

And  come  our  ways  by  the  pathless  road ; 

Look  how  the  clouds  hang  low  and  laden 
Over  the  walls  of  the  old  abode  ! 

She  singeth. 

Bare  are  my  feet  for  the  rough  waste’s  wending, 

Wild  is  the  wind,  and  my  kirtle’s  thin  ; 

Faint  shall  1 be  ere  the  long  way’s  ending 

Drops  down  to  the  Dale  and  the  grief  therein. 

He  singeth. 

Do  on  the  brogues  of  the  wild-wood  rover. 

Do  on  the  byrnies’  ring-close  mail ; 

Take  thou  the  staff  that  the  barbs  hang  over. 

O’er  the  wind  and  the  waste  and  the  way  to  prevail. 

Come,  for  how  from  thee  shall  I sunder  ? 

Come,  that  a tale  may  arise  in  the  land ; 

Come,  that  the  night  may  be  held  for  a wonder, 

When  the  Wolf  was  led  by  a maiden’s  hand  ! 

She  singeth. 

Now  will  I fare  as  ye  are  faring. 

And  wend  no  way  but  the  way  ye  wend  ; 

And  bear  but  the  burdens  ye  are  bearing, 

And  end  the  day  as  ye  shall  end. 

And  many  an  eve  when  the  clouds  are  drifting 
Down  through  the  Dale  till  they  dim  the  roof. 

Shall  they  tell  in  the  Hall  of  the  Maiden’s  Lifting, 

And  how  we  drave  the  spoil  aloof. 

137  T 


The  Maiden’s 
Lifting. 


Folk-might 
telleth  Face- 
of-god  of  the 
vvay. 


They  sing  together. 

Over  the  moss  through  the  wind  and  the  weather, 

Through  the  morn  and  the  eve  and  the  death  of  the  day, 

Wend  we  man  and  maid  together, 

For  out  of  the  waste  is  born  the  fray. 

Then  the  Sun-beam  spake  to  Gold-mane  softly,  and  told  him 
how  this  song  was  made  by  a minstrel  concerning  a foray  in  the 
early  days  of  their  first  abode  in  Shadowy  Vale,  and  how  in  good 
sooth  a maiden  led  the  fray  and  was  the  captain  of  the  warriors  : 

‘ Erst,’  she  said,  ‘this  was  counted  as  a wonder;  but  now  we 
are  so  few  that  it  is  no  wonder  though  the  women  will  do  what- 
soever they  may.’ 

So  they  talked,  and  Gold-mane  was  very  happy ; but  ere  the 
good-night  cup  was  drunk.  Folk-might  spake  to  Face-of-god 
and  said  : 

‘ It  were  well  that  ye  rose  betimes  in  the  morning  : but  thou 
shalt  not  go  back  by  the  way  thou  earnest.  Wood-wise  and  an- 
other shall  go  with  thee,  and  show  thee  a way  across  the  necks 
and  the  heaths,  which  is  rough  enough  as  far  as  toil  goes,  but 
where  thy  life  shall  be  safer ; and  thereby  shalt  thou  hit  the  ghyll 
of  the  Weltering  Water,  and  so  come  down  safely  into  Burgdale. 
Now  that  we  are  friends  and  fellows,  it  is  no  hurt  for  thee  to  know 
the  shortest  way  to  Shadowy  Vale.  What  thou  shalt  tell  con- 
cerning us  in  Burgdale  I leave  the  tale  thereof  to  thee;  yet  belike 
thou  wilt  not  tell  everything  till  I come  to  Burgstead  at  the  spring 
market-tide.  Now  must  1 presently  to  bed;  for  before  daylight 
to-morrow  must  I be  following  the  hunt  along  with  two  score  good 
men  of  ours.’ 

‘ What  beast  is  afield  then  ? ’ said  Gold-mane. 

Said  Folk-might : ‘ The  beasts  that  beset  our  lives,  the  Dusky 
Men.  In  these  days  we  have  learned  how  to  find  companies  of 
them ; and  forsooth  every  week  they  draw  nigher  to  this  Dale ; 
and  some  day  they  should  happen  upon  us  if  we  were  not  to  look 

138 


to  it,  and  then  would  there  be  a murder  great  and  grim ; there- 
fore we  scour  the  heaths  round  about,  and  the  skirts  of  the  wood- 
land, and  we  fall  upon  these  felons  in  divers  guises,  so  that  they 
may  not  know  us  for  the  same  men  ; whiles  are  we  clad  in  home- 
spun,  as  to-day,  and  seem  like  to  field-working  carles  ; whiles  in 
scarlet  and  gold,  like  knights  of  the  Westland;  whiles  in  wolf- 
skins; whiles  in  white  glittering  gear,  like  the  Wights  of  the 
Waste  : and  in  all  guises  these  felons,  for  all  their  fierce  hearts, 
fear  us,  and  flee  from  us,  and  we  follow  and  slay  them,  and  so 
minish  their  numbers  somewhat  against  the  great  day  of  battle.’ 

^ Tell  me,’  said  Gold-mane  ; ‘ when  we  fall  upon  Silver-dale 
shall  their  thralls,  the  old  Dale-dwellers,  fight  for  them  or  for  us  ?’ 
Said  Folk-might : ‘ The  Dusky  Men  will  not  dare  to  put  wea- 
pons into  the  hands  of  their  thralls.  Nay,  the  thralls  shall  help 
us ; for  though  they  have  but  small  stomach  for  the  fight,  yet  joy- 
fully when  the  fight  is  over  shall  they  cut  their  masters’  throats.’ 

‘ How  is  it  with  these  thralls  ? ’ said  Gold-mane.  ‘ I have  never 
seen  a thrall.’ 

‘But  I,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘have  seen  a many  down  in  the  Cities. 
And  there  were  thralls  who  were  the  tyrants  of  thralls,  and  held 
the  whip  over  them  ; and  of  the  others  there  were  some  who  were 
not  very  hardly  entreated.  But  with  these  it  is  otherwise,  and  they 
all  bear  grievous  pains  daily  ; for  the  Dusky  Men  are  as  hogs  in 
a garden  of  lilies.  Whatsoever  is  fair  there  have  they  defiled  and 
deflowered,  and  they  wallow  in  our  fair  halls  as  swine  strayed  from 
the  dunghill.  No  delight  in  life,  no  sweet  days  do  they  have  for 
themselves,  and  they  begrudge  the  delight  of  others  therein. 
Therefore  their  thralls  know  no  rest  or  solace  ; their  reward  of 
toil  is  many  stripes,  and  the  healing  of  their  stripes  grievous  toil. 
To  many  have  they  appointed  to  dig  and  mine  in  the  silver-yield- 
ing cliffs,  and  of  all  the  tasks  is  that  the  sorest,  and  there  do  stripes 
abound  the  most.  Such  thralls  art  thou  happy  not  to  behold  till 
thou  hast  set  them  free;  as  we  shall  do.’ 

‘Tell  me  again,’  said  Face-of-god ; ‘is  there  no  mixed  folk 

^39 


Of  the  Silver- 
dale  thralls. 


The  sleeping- 
cup. 


between  these  Dusky  Men  and  the  Dalesmen,  since  they  have  no 
women  of  their  own,  but  lie  with  the  women  of  the  Dale?  More 
over,  do  not  the  poor  folk  of  the  Dale  beget  and  bear  children,  so 
that  there  are  thralls  born  of  thralls  ? ’ 

‘Wisely  thou  askest  this,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘but  thereof  shall  I 
tell  thee,  that  when  a Dusky  Carle  mingles  with  a woman  of  the 
Dale,  the  child  which  she  beareth  shall  oftenest  favour  his  race 
and  not  hers ; or  else  shall  it  be  witless,  a fool  natural.  But  as 
for  the  children  of  these  poor  thralls  ; yea,  the  masters  cause  them 
to  breed  if  so  their  masterships  will,  and  when  the  children  are 
born,  they  keep  them  or  slay  them  as  they  will,  as  they  would  with 
whelps  or  calves.  To  be  short,  year  by  year  these  vile  wretches 
grow  fiercer  and  more  beastly,  and  their  thralls  more  hapless  and 
down-trodden  ; and  now  at  last  is  come  the  time  either  to  do  or 
to  die,  as  ye  men  of  Burgdale  shall  speedily  find  out.  But  now  must 
I go  sleep  if  I am  to  be  where  I look  to  be  at  sunrise  to-morrow.’ 
Therewith  he  called  for  the  sleeping-cup,  and  it  was  drunk,  and 
all  men  fared  to  bed.  But  the  Sun-beam  took  Gold-  mane’s  hand 
ere  they  parted,  and  said  : 

‘ I shall  arise  betimes  on  the  morrow ; so  I say  not  farewell 
to-night ; yea,  and  after  to-morrow  it  shall  not  be  long  ere  we 
meet  again.’ 

So  Gold-mane  lay  down  in  that  ancient  hall,  and  it  seemed  to 
him  ere  he  slept  as  if  his  own  kindred  were  slipping  away  from 
him  and  he  were  becoming  a child  of  the  Wolf.  ‘And  yet,’  said 
he  to  himself,  ‘ I am  become  a man  ; for  my  Friend,  now  she  no 
longer  telleth  me  to  do  or  forbear,  and  I tremble.  Nay,  rather  she 
is  fain  to  take  the  word  from  me  ; and  this  great  warrior  and  ripe 
man,  he  talketh  with  me  as  if  I were  a chieftain  meet  for  converse 
with  chieftains.  Even  so  it  is  and  shall  be.’ 

And  soon  thereafter  he  fell  asleep  in  the  Hall  in  Shadowy  Vale. 


140 


CHAPTER  XXL  FACE-OF-GOD  LOOKETH  ON  THE 
DUSKY  MEN. 


WHEN  he  awoke  again  he  saw  a man  standing  over  him, 
and  knew  him  for  Wood-wise  : he  was  clad  in  his  war- 
gear,  and  had  his  quiver  at  his  back  and  his  bow  in  his 
hand,  for  Wood-father’s  children  were  all  good  bowmen,  though 
not  so  sure  as  Bow-may.  He  spake  to  Face-of-god  : 

‘ Dawn  is  in  the  sky,  Dalesman  ; there  is  yet  time  for  thee  to 
wash  the  night  off  of  thee  in  our  bath  of  the  Shivering  Flood  and 
to  put  thy  mouth  to  the  milk-bowl ; but  time  for  nought  else  : for 
I and  Bow-may  are  appointed  thy  fellows  for  the  road,  and  it  were 
well  that  we  were  back  home  speedily.’ 

So  Face-of-god  leapt  up  and  went  forth  from  the  Hall,  and 
Wood-wise  led  to  where  was  a pool  in  the  river  with  steps  cut 
down  to  it  in  the  rocky  bank. 

‘ This,’  said  Wood-wise,  Ms  the  Carle’s  Bath  ; but  the  Queen’s 
is  lower  down,  where  the  water  is  wider  and  shallower  below 
the  little  mid-dale  force.’ 

So  Gold-mane  stripped  off  his  raiment  and  leapt  into  the  ice- 
cold  pool ; and  they  had  brought  his  weapons  and  war-gear 
with  them  ; so  when  he  came  out  he  clad  and  armed  himself  for 
the  road,  and  then  turned  with  Wood-wise  toward  the  outgate 
of  the  Dale ; and  soon  they  saw  two  men  coming  from  lower 
down  the  water  in  such  wise  that  they  would  presently  cross  their 
path,  and  as  yet  it  was  little  more  than  twilight,  so  that  they  saw 
not  at  first  who  they  were,  but  as  they  drew  nearer  they  knew 
them  for  the  Sun-beam  and  Bow-may.  The  Sun-beam  was  clad 
but  in  her  white  linen  smock  and  blue  gown  as  he  had  first  seen 
her ; her  hair  was  wet  and  dripping  with  the  river,  her  face 
fresh  and  rosy : she  carried  in  her  two  hands  a great  bowl  of 
milk,  and  stepped  delicately,  lest  she  should  spill  it.  But  Bow- 
may  was  clad  in  her  war-gear  with  helm  and  byrny,  and  a quiver 
at  her  back,  and  a bended  bow  in  her  hand.  So  they  greeted 

141 


Morning  and 

departure 

come. 


The  Sun-  each  other  kindly,  and  the  Sun-beam  gave  the  bowl  to  Face-of- 
beam  abroad  god  and  said  : 

betimes.  < Drink,  guest,  for  thou  hast  a long  and  thirsty  road  before  thee.’ 

So  Face-of-god  drank,  and  gave  her  the  bowl  back  again,  and 
she  smiled  on  him  and  drank,  and  the  others  after  her  till  the  bowl 
was  empty : then  Bow-may  put  her  hand  on  W ood-wise’ s shoulder, 
and  they  led  on  toward  the  outgate,  while  those  twain  followed 
them  hand  in  hand.  But  the  Sun-beam  said  : 

‘ This  then  is  the  new  day  I spoke  of,  and  lo ! it  bringeth 
our  sundering  with  it ; yet  shall  it  be  no  longer  than  a day  when 
all  is  said,  and  new  days  shall  follow  after.  And  now,  my  friend, 
I shall  see  thee  no  later  than  the  April  market ; for  doubt  not 
that  I shall  go  thither  with  Folk-might,  whether  he  will  or  not. 
Also  as  I led  thee  out  of  the  house  when  we  last  met,  so  shall  I 
lead  thee  out  of  the  Dale  to-day,  and  I will  go  with  thee  a little 
way  on  the  waste  ; and  therefore  am  I shod  this  morning,  as  thou 
seest,  for  the  ways  on  the  waste  are  rough.  And  now  I bid  thee 
have  courage  while  my  hand  holdeth  thine.  For  afterwards  I need 
not  bid  thee  anything;  for  thou  wilt  have  enough  to  do  when  thou 
comest  to  thy  Folk,  and  must  needs  think  more  of  warriors  then 
than  of  maidens.’ 

He  looked  at  her  and  longed  for  her,  but  said  soberly  : ‘Thou 
art  kind,  O friend,  and  thinkest  kindly  of  me  ever.  But  me- 
thinks  it  were  not  well  done  for  thee  to  wend  with  me  over  a deal 
of  the  waste,  and  come  back  by  thyself  alone,  when  ye  have  so 
many  foemen  nearby.’ 

‘Nay,’  she  said,  ‘they  be  nought  so  near  as  that  yet,  and  I 
wot  that  Folk-might  hath  gone  forth  toward  the  north-west,  where 
he  looketh  to  fall  in  with  a company  of  the  foemen.  His  battle 
shall  be  a guard  unto  us.’ 

‘ I pray  thee  turn  back  at  the  top  of  the  outgate,’  said  he,  ‘ and 
be  not  venturesome.  Thou  wottest  that  the  pitcher  is  not  broken 
the  first  time  it  goeth  to  the  well,  nor  maybe  the  twentieth,  but 
at  last  it  cometh  not  back.’ 


142 


She  said  : ^ Nevertheless  I shall  have  my  will  herein.  And  it 
is  but  a little  way  I will  wend  with  thee.’ 

Therewith  were  they  come  to  the  scree,  and  talk  fell  down  be- 
tween them  as  they  clomb  it ; but  when  they  were  in  the  dark- 
some passage  of  the  rocks,  and  could  scarce  see  one  another,  Face- 
of-god  said  : 

‘ Where  then  is  another  outgate  from  the  Dale  ? Is  it  not  up 
the  water  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,’  she  said,  ‘ and  there  is  none  other : at  the  lower  end 
the  rocks  rise  sheer  from  out  the  water,  and  a little  further  down 
is  a great  force  thundering  betwixt  them  ; so  that  by  no  boat  or 
raft  may  ye  come  out  of  the  Dale.  But  the  outgate  up  the  water 
is  called  the  Road  of  War,  as  this  is  named  the  Path  of  Peace. 
But  now  are  all  ways  ways  of  war.’ 

‘ There  is  peace  in  my  heart,’  said  Gold-mane. 

She  answered  not  for  a while,  but  pressed  his  hand,  and  he  felt 
her  breath  on  his  cheek ; and  even  therewithal  they  came  out  of 
the  dark,  and  Gold-mane  saw  that  her  cheek  was  flushed ; and 
now  she  spake  : 

* One  thing  would  I say  to  thee,  my  friend.  Thou  hast  seen  me 
amongst  men  of  war,  amongst  outlaws  who  seek  violence  ; thou 
hast  heard  me  bid  my  brother  to  count  the  slain,  and  I shrinking 
not ; thou  knowest  (for  I have  told  thee)  how  I have  schemed  and 
schemed  for  victorious  battle.  Yet  I would  not  have  thee  think 
of  me  as  a Chooser  of  the  Slain,  a warrior  maiden,  or  as  of  one 
who  hath  no  joy  save  in  the  battle  whereto  she  biddeth  others. 
O friend,  the  many  peaceful  hours  that  I have  had  on  the  grass 
down  yonder,  sitting  with  my  rock  and  spindle  in  hand,  the  chil- 
dren round  about  my  knees  hearkening  to  some  old  story  so  well 
remembered  by  me  ! or  the  milking  of  the  kine  in  the  dewy 
summer  even,  when  all  was  still  but  for  the  voice  of  the  water 
and  the  cries  of  the  happy  children,  and  there  round  about  me 
were  the  dear  and  beauteous  maidens  with  whom  I had  grown 
up,  happy  amidst  all  our  troubles,  since  their  life  was  free  and 

H3 


Peace  amidst 
of  war. 


Face-of-god 
telleth  of  the 
peace  of 
Burgdale. 


they  knew  no  guile.  In  such  times  my  heart  was  at  peace  in- 
deed, and  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  we  had  won  all  we  needed  ; as 
if  war  and  turmoil  were  over,  after  they  had  brought  about  peace 
and  good  days  for  our  little  folk. 

‘ And  as  for  the  days  that  be,  are  they  not  as  that  rugged  pass, 
full  of  bitter  winds  and  the  voice  of  hurrying  waters,  that  leadeth 
yonder  to  Silver-dale,  as  thou  hast  divined  ? and  there  is  nought 
good  in  it  save  that  the  breath  of  life  is  therein,  and  that  it  leadeth 
to  pleasant  places  and  the  peace  and  plenty  of  the  fair  dale.’ 

‘ Sweet  friend,’  he  said,  ‘ what  thou  sayest  is  better  than  well : 
for  time  shall  be,  if  we  come  alive  out  of  this  pass  of  battle  and 
bitter  strife,  when  I shall  lead  thee  into  Burgdale  to  dwell  there. 
And  thou  wottest  of  our  people  that  there  is  little  strife  and  grudg- 
ing amongst  them,  and  that  they  are  merry,  and  fair  to  look  on, 
both  men  and  women  ; and  no  man  there  lacketh  what  the  earth 
may  give  us,  and  it  is  a saying  amongst  us  that  there  may  a 
man  have  that  which  he  desireth  save  the  sun  and  moon  in  his 
hands  to  play  with : and  of  this  gladness,  which  is  made  up  of 
many  little  matters,  what  story  may  be  told  ? Yet  amongst  it 
shall  I live  and  thou  with  me  ; and  ill  indeed  it  were  if  it  wearied 
thee  and  thou  wert  ever  longing  for  some  day  of  victorious  strife, 
and  to  behold  me  coming  back  from  battle  high-raised  on  the 
shields  of  men  and  crowned  with  bay ; if  thine  ears  must  ever  be 
tickled  with  the  talk  of  men  and  their  songs  concerning  my  war- 
rior deeds.  For  thus  it  shall  not  be.  When  I drive  the  herds  it 
shall  be  at  the  neighbours’  bidding  whereso  they  will ; not  necks 
of  men  shall  I smite,  but  the  stalks  of  the  tall  wheat,  and  the 
boles  of  the  timber-trees  which  the  woodreeve  hath  marked  for 
felling  ; the  stilts  of  the  plough  rather  than  the  hilts  of  the  sword 
shall  harden  my  hands ; my  shafts  shall  be  for  the  deer,  and  my 
spears  for  the  wood-boar,  till  war  and  sorrow  fall  upon  us,  and  I 
fight  for  the  ceasing  of  war  and  trouble.  And  though  I be  called 
a chief  and  of  the  blood  of  chiefs,  yet  shall  I not  be  masterful  to 
the  goodman  of  the  Dale,  but  rather  to  my  hound  ; for  my  chief- 

144. 


tainship  shall  be  that  I shall  be  well  beloved  and  trusted,  and 
that  no  man  shall  grudge  against  me.  Canst  thou  learn  to  love 
such  a life,  which  to  me  seemeth  lovely  ? And  thou  ? of  whom 
I say  that  thou  art  as  if  thou  wert  come  down  from  the  golden 
chairs  of  the  Burg  of  the  Gods.’ 

They  were  well-nigh  out  of  the  steep  path  by  now,  and  the 
daylight  was  bright  about  them  ; there  she  stayed  her  feet  a 
moment  and  turned  to  him  and  said  : 

‘All  this  should  I love  even  now,  if  the  grief  of  our  Folk  were 
but  healed,  and  hereafter  shall  I learn  yet  more  of  thy  well- 
beloved  face.’ 

Therewith  she  laid  her  face  to  his  and  kissed  him  fondly,  and 
put  his  hand  to  her  side  and  held  it  there,  saying  : ‘ Soon  shall 
we  be  one  in  body  and  in  soul.’ 

And  he  laughed  with  joy  and  pride  of  life,  and  took  her  hand 
and  led  her  on  again,  and  said  : 

‘ Yet  feel  the  cold  rings  of  my  hauberk,  my  friend ; look  at  the 
spears  that  cumber  my  hand,  and  at  Dale-warden  hanging  by 
my  side.  Thou  shalt  yet  see  me  as  the  Slain’s  Chooser  would 
see  her  speech-friend;  for  there  is  much  to  do  ere  we  win  wheat- 
harvest  in  Burgdale.’ 

Therewith  they  stepped  together  on  to  the  level  ground  of  the 
waste,  and  saw  Bow-may  sitting  on  a stone  hard  by,  and  Wood- 
wise  standing  beside  her  bending  his  bow.  Bow-may  smiled  on 
Gold-mane  and  rose  up,  and  they  all  went  on  together,  turning 
so  that  they  went  nearly  alongside  the  wall  of  the  Vale,  but 
westering  a little  ; then  the  Sun-beam  said  : 

‘ Many  a time  have  I trodden  this  heath  alongside  our  rock- 
wall  ; for  if  ye  wend  a little  further  as  our  faces  are  turned,  ye 
come  to  the  crags  over  the  place  where  the  Shivering  Flood  goeth 
out  of  Shadowy  Vale.  There  when  ye  have  clomb  a little  may’st 
thou  stand  on  the  edge  of  the  rock-wall,  and  look  down  and  be- 
hold the  Flood  swirling  and  eddying  in  the  black  gorge  of  the 
rocks,  and  see  presently  the  reek  of  the  force  go  up,  and  hear  the 

H5  u 


They  come 
out  of 
Shadowy 
Vale. 


The  Wolf- 
whoop, 


thunder  of  the  waters  as  they  pour  over  it : and  all  this  about  us 
now  is  as  the  garden  of  our  house — is  it  not  so,  Bow-may  ? ’ 
‘Yea,’  said  she,  ‘and  there  are  goodly  cluster-berries  to  be 
gotten  hereabout  in  the  autumn ; many  a time  have  the  Sun- 
beam and  I reddened  our  lips  with  them.  Yet  is  it  best  to  be 
wary  when  war  is  abroad  and  hot  withal.’ 

‘ Yea,’  said  the  Sun-beam,  ‘ and  all  this  place  comes  into  the 
story  of  our  House  : lo!  Gold-mane,  two  score  paces  before  us  a 
little  on  our  right  hand  those  five  grey  stones.  They  are  called 
the  Rocks  of  the  Elders  : for  there  in  the  first  days  of  our  abiding 
in  Shadowy  Vale  the  Elders  were  wont  to  come  together  to  talk 
privily  upon  our  matters.’ 

Face-of-god  looked  thither  as  she  spoke,  but  therewith  saw 
Bow-may,  who  went  on  the  left  hand  of  the  Sun-beam,  as  Face- 
of-god  on  her  right  hand,  notch  a shaft  on  her  bent  bow,  and 
Wood-wise,  who  was  on  his  right  hand,  saw  it  also  and  did  the 
like,  and  therewithal  Face-of-god  got  his  target  on  to  his  arm, 
and  even  as  he  did  so  Bow-may  cried  out  suddenly  : 

‘Yea,  yea  ! Cast  thyself  on  to  the  ground.  Sun-beam  ! Gold- 
mane,  targe  and  spear,  targe  and  spear!  For  I see  steel  gleaming 
yonder  out  from  behind  the  Elders’  Rocks.’ 

Scarce  were  the  words  out  of  her  mouth  ere  three  shafts  came 
flying,  and  the  bow-strings  twanged.  Gold-mane  felt  that  one 
smote  his  helm  and  glanced  from  it.  Therewithal  he  saw  the  Sun- 
beam fall  to  earth,  though  he  knew  not  if  she  had  but  cast  herself 
down  as  Bow-may  bade.  Bow-may’s  string  twanged  at  once,  and 
a yell  came  from  the  foemen  : but  Wood-wise  loosed  not,  but 
set  his  hand  to  his  mouth  and  gave  a loud  wild  cry — Ha ! ha  ! 
ha ! ha  ! How-ow-ow ! — ending  in  a long  and  exceeding  great 
whoop  like  nought  but  the  wolf’s  howl.  Now  Gold-mane  thinking 
swiftly,  in  a moment  of  time,  as  war-meet  men  do,  judged  that 
if  the  Sun-beam  were  hurt  (and  she  had  made  no  cry),  it  were 
yet  wiser  to  fall  on  the  foe  before  turning  to  tend  her,  or  else  all 
might  be  lost ; so  he  rushed  forward  spear  in  hand  and  target  on 


arm,  and  saw,  as  he  opened  up  the  flank  of  the  Elders’  Rocks,  six  Onslaught 
men,  whereof  one  leaned  aback  on  the  rock  with  Bow-may’s  shaft  victory, 
in  his  shoulder,  and  two  others  were  just  in  act  of  loosing  at  him. 

In  a moment,  as  he  rushed  at  them,  one  shaft  went  whistling  by 
him,  and  the  other  glanced  from  off  his  target ; he  cast  a spear 
as  he  bounded  on,  and  saw  it  smite  one  of  the  shooters  full  in  the 
naked  face,  and  saw  the  blood  spout  out  and  change  his  face  and 
the  man  roll  over,  and  then  in  another  moment  four  men  were 
hewing  at  him  with  their  short  steel  axes.  He  thrust  out  his 
target  against  them,  and  then  let  the  weight  of  his  body  come  on 
his  other  spear,  and  drave  it  through  the  second  shooter’s  throat, 
and  even  therewith  was  smitten  on  the  helm  so  hard  that,  though 
the  Alderman’s  work  held  out,  he  fell  to  his  knees,  holding  his 
target  over  his  head  and  striving  to  draw  forth  Dale-warden ; in 
that  nick  of  time  a shaft  whistled  close  by  his  ear,  and  as  he 
rose  to  his  feet  again  he  saw  his  foeman  rolling  over  and  over, 
clutching  at  the  ling  with  both  hands.  Then  rang  out  again  the 
terrible  wolf-w^hoop  from  Wood- wise’s  mouth,  and  both  he  and 
Bow-may  loosed  a shaft,  for  the  two  other  foes  had  turned  their 
backs  and  were  fleeing  fast.  Again  Bow-may  hit  the  clout,  and 
the  Dusky  Man  fell  dead  at  once,  but  Wood-wise’s  arrow  flew 
over  the  felon’s  shoulder  as  he  ran.  Then  in  a trice  was  Gold- 
mane  bounding  after  him  like  the  hare  just  roused  from  her  form ; 
for  it  came  into  his  head  that  these  felons  had  beheld  them  coming 
up  out  of  the  Vale,  and  that  if  even  this  one  man  escaped,  he 
would  bring  his  company  down  upon  the  Vale-dwellers. 

Strong  and  light- foot  as  any  was  Face-of-god,  and  though  he 
was  cumbered  with  his  hauberk,  yet  was  Iron-face’s  handiwork 
far  lighter  than  the  war-coat  of  the  Dusky  Man,  and  the  race 
was  soon  over.  The  felon  turned  breathless  to  meet  Gold-mane, 
who  drave  his  target  against  him  and  cast  him  to  earth,  and  as 
he  strove  to  rise  smote  off  his  head  at  one  stroke ; for  Dale- 
warden  was  a good  sword  and  the  Dalesman  as  fierce  of  mood 
as  might  be.  There  he  let  the  felon  lie,  and,  turning,  walked 

147 


The  Sun- 
beam hath 
been  afraid. 


back  swiftly  toward  the  Elders’  Rocks,  and  found  there  Wood- 
wise  and  the  dead  foemen,  for  the  carle  had  slain  the  wounded, 
and  he  was  now  drawing  the  silver  arm-rings  off  the  slain  men ; 
for  all  these  Dusky  Felons  bore  silver  arm-rings.  But  Bow-may 
was  walking  towards  the  Sun-beam,  and  thitherward  followed 
Gold-mane  speedily. 

He  found  her  sitting  on  a tussock  of  grass  close  by  where  she 
had  fallen,  her  face  pale,  her  eyes  eager  and  gleaming ; she  looked 
up  at  him  as  he  drew  nigher  and  said : 

‘ Friend,  art  thou  hurt  ? ’ 

‘ Nay,’  he  said,  ^ and  thou  ? Thou  art  pale.’ 

^ I am  not  hurt,’  she  said.  Then  she  smiled  and  said  again : 
‘ Did  I not  tell  thee  that  I am  no  warrior  like  Bow-may  here  ? 
Such  deeds  make  maidens  pale.’ 

Said  Bow-may;  ‘ If  ye  will  have  the  truth.  Gold-mane,  she  is 
not  wont  to  grow  pale  when  battle  is  nigh  her.  Look  you,  she 
hath  had  the  gift  of  a new  delight,  and  findeth  it  sweeter  and 
softer  than  she  had  any  thought  of ; and  now  hath  she  feared  lest 
it  should  be  taken  from  her.’ 

‘ Bow-may  saith  but  the  sooth,’  said  the  Sun-beam  simply, 
‘ and  kind  it  is  of  her  to  say  it.  I saw  thee.  Bow-may,  and  good 
was  thy  shooting,  and  I love  thee  for  it.’ 

Said  Bow-may  : ‘ I never  shoot  otherwise  than  well.  But 
those  idle  shooters  of  the  Dusky  Ones,  whereabouts  nigh  to  thee 
went  their  shafts  ? ’ 

Said  the  Sun-beam  : ‘ One  just  lifted  the  hair  by  my  left  ear,  and 
that  was  not  so  ill-aimed  ; as  for  the  other,  it  pierced  my  raiment 
by  my  right  knee,  and  pinned  me  to  the  earth,  so  that  I tottered 
and  fell,  and  my  gown  and  smock  are  grievously  wounded,  both 
of  them.’ 

And  she  took  the  folds  of  the  garments  in  her  hands  to  show 
the  rents  therein ; and  her  colour  was  come  again,  and  she  was  glad. 
‘ What  were  best  to  do  now  ? ’ she  said. 

Said  Face-of-god:  ‘Let  us  tarry  a little;  for  some  of  thy 

148 


carles  shall  surely  come  up  from  the  Vale:  because  they  will  Men  come  u{. 
have  heard  Wood-wise’s  whoop,  since  the  wind  sets  that  way.’  trom  the  Vale. 
^ Yea,  they  will  come,^  said  the  Sun-beam. 

^ Good  is  that,’  said  Face-of-god ; ‘ for  they  shall  take  the 
dead  felons  and  cast  them  where  they  be  not  seen  if  perchance 
any  more  stray  hereby.  For  if  they  wind  them,  they  may  well 
happen  on  the  path  down  to  the  Vale.  Also,  my  friend,  it 
were  well  if  thou  wert  to  bid  a good  few  of  the  carles  that  are 
in  the  Vale  to  keep  watch  and  ward  about  here,  lest  there  be 
more  foemen  wandering  about  the  waste.’ 

She  said  : ‘ Thou  art  wise  in  war.  Gold-mane ; I will  do  as 
thou  biddest  me.  But  soothly  this  is  a perilous  thing  that  the 
Dusky  Men  are  gotten  so  close  to  the  Vale.’ 

Said  Face-of-god:  ‘This  will  Folk-might  look  to  when  he 
cometh  home ; and  it  is  most  like  that  he  will  deem  it  good  to 
fall  on  them  somewhere  a good  way  aloof,  so  as  to  draw  them 
oif  from  wandering  over  the  waste.  Also  I will  do  my  best  to 
busy  them  when  I am  home  in  Burgdale.’ 

Therewith  came  up  Wood-wise,  and  fell  to  talk  with  them  ; 
and  his  mind  it  was  that  these  foemen  were  but  a band  of  strayers, 
and  had  had  no  inkling  of  Shadowy  Vale  till  they  had  heard  them 
talking  together  as  they  came  up  the  path  from  the  Vale,  and  that 
then  they  had  made  that  ambush  behind  the  Elders’  Rocks,  so  that 
they  might  slay  the  men,  and  then  bear  oif  the  woman.  He  said 
withal  that  it  would  be  best  to  carry  their  corpses  further  on,  so  that 
they  might  be  cast  over  the  cliffs  into  the  fierce  stream  of  the 
Shivering  Flood. 

Amidst  this  talk  came  up  men  from  the  Vale,  a score  of  them, 
well  armed  ; and  they  ran  to  meet  the  wayfarers  ; and  when  they 
heard  what  had  befallen,  they  rejoiced  exceedingly,  and  were 
above  all  glad  that  Face-of-god  had  shown  himself  doughty  and 
deft ; and  they  deemed  his  rede  wise,  to  set  a watch  thereabouts 
till  Folk-might  came  home,  and  said  that  they  would  do  even  so. 

Then  spake  the  Sun-beam  and  said  : 

149 


They  kiss 
together  be- 
fore the  folk. 


‘ Now  must  ye  wayfarers  depart ; for  the  road  is  but  rough, 
and  the  day  not  over-long.’ 

Then  she  turned  to  Face-of-god  and  put  her  hand  on  his 
shoulder,  and  brought  her  face  close  to  his  and  spake  to  him  softly : 

‘ Doth  this  second  parting  seem  at  all  strange  to  thee,  and  that  I 
am  now  so  familiar  to  thee,  I whom  thou  didst  once  deem  to  be 
a very  goddess  ? And  now  thou  hast  seen  me  redden  before  thine 
eyes  because  of  thee  ; and  thou  hast  seen  me  grow  pale  with  fear 
because  of  thee ; and  thou  hast  felt  my  caresses  which  I might 
not  refrain ; even  as  if  I were  altogether  such  a maiden  as  ye 
warriors  hang  about  for  a nine  days’  wonder,  and  then  all  is  over 
save  an  aching  heart — wilt  thou  do  so  with  me  ? Tell  me,  have 
I not  belittled  myself  before  thee  as  if  I asked  thee  to  scorn  me  ? 
For  thus  desire  dealeth  both  with  maid  and  man.’ 

He  said  : ‘ In  all  this  there  is  but  one  thing  for  me  to  say,  and 
that  is  that  I love  thee ; and  surely  none  the  less,  but  rather  the 
more,  because  thou  lovest  me,  and  art  of  my  kind,  and  mayest 
share  in  my  deeds  and  think  well  of  them.  Now  is  my  heart 
full  of  joy,  and  one  thing  only  weigheth  on  it ; and  that  is  that 
my  kinswoman  the  Bride  begrudgeth  our  love  together.  Foi 
this  is  the  thing  that  of  all  things  most  misliketh  me,  that  any 
should  bear  a grudge  against  me.’ 

She  said  : ‘ Forget  not  the  token,  and  my  message  to  her.’ 

‘ I will  not  forget  it,’  said  he.  ‘ And  now  I bid  thee  to  kiss 
me  even  before  all  these  that  are  looking  on  ; for  there  is  nought 
to  belittle  us  therein,  since  we  be  troth-plight.’ 

And  indeed  those  folk  stood  all  round  about  them  gazing  on 
them,  but  a little  aloof,  that  they  might  not  hear  their  words  if 
they  were  minded  to  talk  privily.  For  they  had  long  loved  the 
Sun-beam,  and  now  the  love  of  Face-of-god  had  begun  to  spring 
up  in  their  hearts. 

So  the  twain  embraced  and  kissed  one  another,  and  made  no 
haste  thereover  ; and  those  men  deemed  that  but  meet  and  right, 
and  clashed  their  weapons  on  their  shields  in  token  of  their  joy. 

150 


Then  Face-of-god  turned  about  and  strode  out  of  the  ring  of 
men,  with  Bow-may  and  Wood-wise  beside  him,  and  they  went 
on  their  journey  over  the  necks  towards  Burgstead.  But  the 
Sun-beam  turned  slowly  from  that  place  toward  the  Vale,  and 
two  of  the  stoutest  carles  went  along  with  her  to  guard  her  from 
harm,  and  she  went  down  into  the  Vale  pondering  all  these  things 
in  her  heart. 

Then  the  other  carles  dragged  off  the  corpses  of  the  Dusky 
Men  till  they  had  brought  them  to  the  sheer  rocks  above  the 
Shivering  Flood,  and  there  they  tossed  them  over  into  the  boiling 
caldron  of  the  force,  and  so  departed  taking  with  them  the  silver 
arm-rings  of  the  slain  to  add  to  the  tale. 

But  when  they  came  back  into  the  Vale  the  Sun-beam  duly 
ordered  that  watch  and  ward  to  keep  the  ingate  thereto,  and  note 
all  that  should  befall  till  Folk-might  came  home. 


CHAPTER  XXII  FACE-OF-GOD  COMETH  HOME  TO 
BURGSTEAD. 

But  Face-of-god  with  Bow-may  and  Wood-wise  fared  over 
the  waste,  going  at  first  alongside  the  cliffs  of  the  Shivering 
Flood,  and  then  afterwards  turning  somewhat  to  the  west. 
They  soon  had  to  climb  a very  high  and  steep  bent  going  up  to 
a mountain-neck  ; and  the  way  over  the  neck  was  rough  indeed 
when  they  were  on  it,  and  they  toiled  out  of  it  into  a barren  valley, 
and  out  of  the  valley  again  on  to  a rough  neck  ; and  such-like 
was  their  journey  the  day  long,  for  they  were  going  athwart  all 
those  great  dykes  that  went  from  the  ice-mountains  toward  the 
lower  dales  like  the  outspread  fingers  of  a hand  or  the  roots  of  a 
great  tree.  And  the  ice-mountains  they  had  on  their  left  hands 
and  whiles  at  their  backs. 

They  went  very  warily,  with  their  bows  bended  and  spear  in 
hand,  but  saw  no  man,  good  or  bad,  and  but  few  living  things. 

151 


Departure 

from 

Shadowy 

Vale. 


A rest  in  the  At  noon  they  rested  in  a valley  where  was  a stream,  but  no  grass, 
Wilderness.  nought  but  stones  and  sand ; but  where  they  were  at  least  sheltered 
from  the  wind,  which  was  mostly  very  great  in  these  high  wastes  ; 
and  there  Bow-may  drew  meat  and  wine  from  a wallet  she  bore, 
and  they  ate  and  drank,  and  were  merry  enough  ; and  Bow- 
may  said  : 

‘ I would  I were  going  all  the  way  with  thee,  Gold-mane ; for 
I long  sore  to  let  my  eyes  rest  a while  on  the  land  where  I shall 
one  day  live.’ 

‘Yea,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘art  thou  minded  to  dwell  there? 
We  shall  be  glad  of  that.’ 

‘ Whither  are  thy  wits  straying  ? ’ said  she  ; ‘ whether  I am 
minded  to  it  or  not,  I shall  dwell  there.’ 

And  Wood-wise  nodded  a yea  to  her.  But  Face-of-god  said  ; 
‘ Good  will  be  thy  dwelling ; but  wherefore  must  it  be  so  ? ’ 
Then  Wood-wise  laughed  and  said:  ‘I  shall  tell  thee  in  fewer 
words  than  she  will,  and  time  presses  now : Wood-father  and 
Wood-mother,  and  I and  my  two  brethren  and  this  woman  have 
ever  been  about  and  anigh  the  Sun-beam ; and  we  deem  that  war 
and  other  troubles  have  made  us  of  closer  kin  to  her  than  we  were 
born,  whether  ye  call  it  brotherhood  or  what  not,  and  never  shall 
we  sunder  from  her  in  life  or  in  death.  So  when  thou  goest  to 
Burgdale  with  her,  there  shall  we  be.’ 

Then  was  Face-of-god  glad  when  he  found  that  they  deemed 
his  wedding  so  settled  and  sure  ; but  Wood-wise  fell  to  making 
ready  for  the  road.  And  Face-of-god  said  to  him  : 

‘ Tell  me  one  thing,  Wood-wise;  that  whoop  that  thou  gavest 
forth  when  we  were  at  handy-strokes  e’en  now — is  it  but  a cry  of 
thine  own  or  is  it  of  thy  Folk,  and  shall  I hear  it  again  ? ’ 

‘ Thou  may’st  look  to  hear  it  many  a time,’  said  Wood-wise, 
‘ for  it  is  the  cry  of  the  Wolf.  Seldom  indeed  hath  battle  been 
joined  where  men  of  our  blood  are,  but  that  cry  is  given  forth. 
Come  now,  to  the  road  ! ’ 

So  they  went  their  ways  and  the  road  worsened  upon  them,  and 

152 


toilsome  was  the  climbing  up  steep  bents  and  the  scaling  of  doubt- 
ful paths  in  the  clifF-sides,  so  that  the  journey,  though  the  distance 
of  it  were  not  so  long  to  the  fowl  flying,  was  much  eked  out  for 
them,  and  it  was  not  till  near  nightfall  that  they  came  on  the 
ghyll  of  the  Weltering  Water  some  six  miles  above  Burgstead. 
Forsooth  Wood-wise  said  that  the  way  might  be  made  less  toil- 
some though  far  longer  by  turning  back  eastward  a little  past  the 
vale  where  they  had  rested  at  midday  ; and  that  seemed  good  to 
Gold-mane,  in  case  they  should  be  wending  hereafter  in  a great 
company  between  Burgdale  and  Shadowy  Vale. 

But  now  those  two  went  with  Face-of-god  down  a path  in  the 
side  of  the  clilF  whereby  him-seemed  he  had  gone  before ; and  they 
came  down  into  the  ghyll  and  sat  down  together  on  a stone  by 
the  water-side,  and  Face-of-god  spake  to  them  kindly,  for  he 
deemed  them  good  and  trusty  faring -fellows. 

‘ Bow-may,’  said  he,  ‘ thou  saidst  a while  ago  that  thou  wouldst 
be  fain  to  look  on  Burgdale  ; and  indeed  it  is  fair  and  lovely,  and 
ye  may  soon  be  in  it  if  ye  will.  Ye  shall  both  be  more  than  wel- 
come to  the  house  of  my  father,  and  heartily  I bid  you  thither. 
For  night  is  on  us,  and  the  way  back  is  long  and  toilsome  and  be- 
set with  peril.  Sister  Bow-may,  thou  wottest  that  it  would  be  a 
sore  grief  to  me  if  thou  earnest  to  any  harm,  and  thou  also,  fellow 
Wood- wise.  Daylight  is  a good  faring-fellow  over  the  waste.’ 

Said  Bow-may : ‘ Thou  art  kind.  Gold-mane,  and  that  is  thy 
wont,  I know ; and  fain  were  I to-night  of  the  candles  in  thine  hall. 
But  we  may  not  tarry;  for  thou  wottest  how  busy  we  be  at  home ; 
and  Sun-beam  needeth  me,  if  it  were  only  to  make  her  sure  that  no 
Dusky  Man  is  bearing  off  thine  head  by  its  lovely  locks.  Neither 
shall  we  journey  in  the  mirk  night;  for  look  you,  the  moon  yonder.’ 
‘Well,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘parting  is  ill  at  the  best,  and  I 
would  I could  give  you  twain  a gift,  and  especially  to  thee,  my 
sister  Bow-may.’ 

Said  W ood-wise : ‘ Thou  ma}^’st  well  do  that ; or  at  least  promise 
the  gift ; and  that  is  all  one  as  if  we  held  it  in  our  hands.  ’ 

153 


They  come  to 
the  Weltering 
Water. 


X 


Face-of-god 

promiseth 

gifts. 


‘Yea,’  said  Bow-may, ‘Wood- wise  and  I have  been  thinking  in 
one  way  belike;  and  I was  at  point  to  ask  a gift  of  thee.’ 
‘What  is  it?’  said  Gold-mane.  ‘Surely  it  is  thine,  if  it  were  but 
a guerdon  for  thy  good  shooting.’ 

She  laughed  and  handled  the  skirts  of  his  hauberk  as  she  said : 
‘ Show  us  the  dint  in  thine  helm  that  the  steel  axe  made  this 
morning.’ 

‘There  is  no  such  great  dint,’  said  he;  ‘my  father  forged  that 
helm,  and  his  work  is  better  than  good.’ 

‘Yea,’  said  Bow-may,  ‘and  might  I have  hauberk  and  helm  of 
his  handiwork,  and  Wood-wise  a good  sword  of  the  same,  then 
were  I a glad  woman,  and  this  man  a happy  carle.’ 

Said  Gold-mane  : ‘ I am  well  pleased  at  thine  asking,  and  so 
shall  Iron-face  be  when  he  heareth  of  thine  archery;  and  how 
that  Hall-face  were  now  his  only  son  but  for  thy  close  shooting. 
But  now  must  I to  the  way  ; for  my  heart  tells  me  that  there  may 
have  been  tidings  in  Burgstead  this  while  I have  been  aloof.’ 

So  they  rose  all  three,  and  Bow-may  said  : 

‘ Thou  art  a kind  brother,  and  soon  shall  we  meet  again  ; and 
that  will  be  well.’ 

Then  he  put  his  hands  on  her  shoulders  and  kissed  both  her 
cheeks ; and  he  kissed  Wood-wise,  and  turned  and  went  his  ways, 
threading  the  stony  tangle  about  the  Weltering  Water,  which  was 
now  at  middle  height,  and  running  clear  and  strong  ; so  turning 
once  he  beheld  Wood-wise  and  Bow-may  climbing  the  path  up 
the  side  of  the  ghyll,  and  Bow-may  turned  to  him  also  and  waved 
her  bow  as  token  of  farewell.  Then  he  went  upon  his  way,  which 
was  rough  enough  to  follow  by  night,  though  the  moon  was  shin- 
ing brightly  high  aloft.  Yet  as  he  knew  his  road  he  made  but 
little  of  it  all,  and  in  somewhat  more  than  an  hour  and  a half  was 
come  out  of  the  pass  into  the  broken  ground  at  the  head  of  the 
Dale,  and  began  to  make  his  way  speedily  under  the  bright  moon- 
light toward  the  Gate,  still  going  close  by  the  water.  But  as 
he  went  he  heard  of  a sudden  cries  and  rumour  not  far  from  him, 

154 


unwonted  in  that  place,  where  none  dwelt,  and  where  the  only  The  Hue 
folk  he  might  look  to  see  were  those  who  cast  an  angle  into  the  Cry. 
pools  and  eddies  of  the  Water.  Moreover,  he  saw  about  the  place 
whence  came  the  cries  torches  moving  swiftly  hither  and  thither  ; 
so  that  he  looked  to  hear  of  new  tidings,  and  stayed  his  feet  and 
looked  keenly  about  him  on  every  side;  and  just  then,  between 
his  rough  path  and  the  shimmer  of  the  dancing  moonlit  water,  he 
saw  the  moon  smite  on  something  gleaming ; so,  as  quietly  as  he 
could,  he  got  his  target  on  his  arm,  and  shortened  his  spear  in  his 
right  hand,  and  then  turned  sharply  toward  that  gleam.  Even 
therewith  up  sprang  a man  on  his  right  hand,  and  then  another 
in  front  of  him  just  betwixt  him  and  the  water;  an  axe  gleamed 
bright  in  the  moon,  and  he  caught  a great  stroke  on  his  target,  and 
therewith  drave  his  left  shoulder  straight  forward,  so  that  the  man 
before  him  fell  over  into  the  water  with  a mighty  splash ; for  they 
were  at  the  very  edge  of  the  deepest  eddy  of  the  Water.  Then 
he  spun  round  on  his  heel,  heeding  not  that  another  stroke  had 
fallen  on  his  right  shoulder,  yet  ill-aimed,  and  not  with  the  full 
edge,  so  that  it  ran  down  his  byrny  and  rent  it  not.  So  he  sent 
the  thrust  of  his  spear  crashing  through  the  face  and  skull  of  the 
smiter,  and  looked  not  to  him  as  he  fell,  but  stood  still,  brandish- 
ing his  spear  and  crying  out,  ‘For  the  Burg  and  the  Face!  For 
the  Burg  and  the  Face!’ 

No  other  foe  came  against  him,  but  like  to  the  echo  of  his  cry 
rose  a clear  shout  not  far  aloof,  ‘ For  the  Face,  for  the  Face!  For 
the  Burg  and  the  Face!’  He  muttered,  ‘ So  ends  the  day  as  it 
begun,’  and  shouted  loud  again,  ‘ For  the  Burg  and  the  Face  ! ’ 

And  in  a minute  more  came  breaking  forth  from  the  stone-heaps 
into  the  moonlit  space  before  the  water  the  tall  shapes  of  the  men 
of  Burgstead,  the  red  torchlight  and  the  moonlight  flashing  back 
from  their  war-gear  and  weapons ; for  every  man  had  his  sword 
or  spear  in  hand. 

Hall-face  was  the  first  of  them,  and  he  threw  his  arms  about 
his  brother  and  said : ‘Well  met.  Gold-mane,  though  thou  comest 

I5S 


They  know  amongst  us  like  Stone-fist  of  the  Mountain.  Art  thou  hurt  ? With 
not  Shadowy  whom  hast  thou  dealt?  Where  be  they?  Whence  comest  thou?’ 

‘ Nay,  I am  not  hurt,’  said  Face-of-god.  ^ Stint  thy  questions 
then,  till  thou  hast  told  me  whom  thou  seekest  with  spear  and 
sword  and  candle.’ 

‘Two  felons  were  they,’  said  Hall-face,  ‘ even  such  as  ye  saw 
lying  dead  at  Wood-grey’s  the  other  day.’ 

‘ Then  may  ye  sheathe  your  swords  and  go  home,’  said  Gold- 
mane,  ‘for  one  lieth  at  the  bottom  of  the  eddy,  and  the  other,  thy 
feet  are  well-nigh  treading  on  him,  Hall-face.’ 

Then  arose  a rumour  of  praise  and  victory,  and  they  brought 
the  torches  nigh  and  looked  at  the  fallen  man,  and  found  that  he 
was  stark  dead  ; so  they  even  let  him  lie  there  till  the  morrow, 
and  all  turned  about  toward  the  Thorp  ; and  many  looked  on 
Face-of-god  and  wondered  concerning  him,  whence  he  was  and 
what  had  befallen  him.  Indeed,  they  would  have  asked  him  there- 
of, but  could  not  get  at  him  to  ask ; but  whoso  could,  went  as  nigh 
to  Hall-face  and  him  as  they  might,  to  hearken  to  the  talk  between 
the  brothers. 

So  as  they  went  along  Hall- face  did  verily  ask  him  whence  he 
came  : ‘ For  was  it  not  so,’  said  he,  ‘ that  thou  didst  enter  into 
the  wood  seeking  some  adventure  early  in  the  morning  the  day 
before  yesterday  ? ’ 

‘ Sooth  is  that,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ and  I came  to  Shadowy 
Vale,  and  thence  am  I come  this  morning.’ 

Said  Hall-face:  ‘I  know  not  Shadowy  Vale,  nor  doth  any  of 
us.  This  is  a new  word.  How  say  ye,  friends,  doth  any  man 
here  know  of  Shadowy  Vale  ? ’ 

They  all  said,  ‘Nay.’ 

Then  said  Hall-face  : ‘ Hast  thou  been  amongst  mere  ghosts 
and  marvels,  brother,  or  cometh  this  tale  of  thy  minstrelsy  ? ’ 

‘ For  all  your  words,’  said  Gold-mane,  ‘ to  that  Vale  have  I 
been  ; and,  to  speak  shortly  (for  I desire  to  have  your  tale,  and 
am  waiting  for  it),  I will  tell  thee  that  I found  there  no  marvels 

156 


or  strange  wights,  but  a folk  of  valiant  men  ; a folk  small  in 
numbers,  but  great  of  heart ; a folk  come,  as  we  be,  from  the 
Fathers  and  the  Gods.  And  this,  moreover,  is  to  be  said  of  them, 
that  they  are  the  foes  of  these  felons  of  whom  ye  were  chasing  these 
twain.  And  these  same  Dusky  Men  of  Silver-dale  would  slay 
them  every  man  if  they  might ; and  if  we  look  not  to  it  they  will 
soon  be  doing  the  same  by  us ; for  they  are  many,  and  as  venomous 
as  adders,  as  fierce  as  bears,  and  as  foul  as  swine.  But  these 
valiant  men,  who  bear  on  their  banner  the  image  of  the  Wolf, 
should  be  our  fellows  in  arms,  and  they  have  good  will  thereto  ; 
and  they  shall  show  us  the  way  to  Silver-dale  by  blind  paths,  so 
that  we  may  fall  upon  these  felons  while  they  dwell  there  torment- 
ing the  poor  people  of  the  land,  and  thus  may  we  destroy  them 
as  lads  a hornet’s  nest.  Or  else  the  days  shall  be  hard  for  us.’ 
The  men  who  hung  about  them  drank  in  his  words  greedily. 
But  Hall-face  was  silent  a little  while,  and  then  he  said  : ‘ Brother 
Gold-mane,  these  be  great  tidings.  Time  was  when  we  might 
have  deemed  them  but  a minstrel’s  tale;  for  Silver-dale  we  know 
not,  of  which  thou  speakest  so  glibly,  nor  the  Dusky  Men,  any 
more  than  the  Shadowy  Vale.  Howbeit,  things  have  befallen  these 
two  last  days  so  strange  and  new,  that  putting  them  together  with 
the  murder  at  Wood-grey’s,  and  thy  words  which  seem  somewhat 
wild,  it  may  well  seem  to  us  that  tidings  unlooked  for  are  coming 
our  way.’ 

‘Come,  then,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ give  me  what  thou  hast  in 
thy  scrip,  and  trust  me,  I shall  not  jeer  at  thy  tale.’ 

Said  Hall-face  : ‘ I also  will  be  short  with  the  tale  ; and  that 
the  more,  as  meseemeth  it  is  not  yet  done,  and  that  thou  thyself 
shalt  share  in  the  ending  of  it.  It  was  the  day  before  yesterday, 
that  is  the  day  when  thou  departedst  into  the  woods  on  that  ad- 
venture whereof  thou  shalt  one  day  tell  me  more,  wilt  thou  not  ? ’ 
‘Yea,  in  good  time,’  said  Face-of-god. 

‘ Well,’  quoth  Hall-face,  ‘we  went  into  the  woods  that  day 
and  in  the  morning,  but  after  sunrise,  to  the  number  of  a score  : 

157 


Two  tales  to 
be  told. 


A hunt  of 
the  Burgstead 
men. 


we  looked  to  meet  a bear  and  a she-bear  with  cubs  in  a certain 
place  ; for  one  of  the  Woodlanders,  a keen  hunter,  had  told  us  of 
their  lair.  Also  we  were  wishful  to  slay  some  of  the  wild-swine, 
the  yearlings,  if  we  might.  Therefore,  though  we  had  no  helms 
or  shields  or  coats  of  fence,  we  had  bowshot  a plenty,  and  good 
store  of  casting-weapons,  besides  our  wood-knives  and  an  axe  or 
so ; and  some  of  us,  of  whom  I was  one,  bore  our  battle-swords, 
as  we  are  wont  ever  to  do,  be  the  foe  beast  or  man. 

^ Thus  armed  we  went  up  Wildlake’s  Way  and  came  to  Carl- 
stead,  where  half-a-score  Woodlanders  joined  themselves  to  us,  so 
that  we  became  a band.  We  went  up  the  half-cleared  places  past 
Carlstead  for  a mile,  and  then  turned  east  into  the  wood,  and  went 
I know  not  how  far,  for  the  Woodlanders  led  us  by  crooked  paths, 
but  two  hours  wore  away  in  our  going,  till  we  came  to  the  place 
where  they  looked  to  find  the  bears.  It  is  a place  that  may  well 
be  noted,  for  it  is  unlike  the  wood  round  about.  There  is  a close 
thicket  some  two  furlongs  about  of  thorn  and  briar  and  ill-grown 
ash  and  oak  and  other  trees,  planted  by  the  birds  belike ; and  it 
stands  as  it  were  in  an  island  amidst  of  a wide-spreading  wood- 
lawn  of  fine  turf,  set  about  in  the  most  goodly  fashion  with  great 
tall  straight-boled  oak-trees,  that  seem  to  have  been  planted  of 
set  purpose  by  man’s  hand.  Yea,  dost  thou  know  the  place?’ 

‘ Methinks  I do/  said  Gold-mane,  ‘ and  I seem  to  have  heard 
the  Woodlanders  give  it  a name  and  call  it  Boars- bait.’ 

‘ That  may  be,’  said  Hall-face.  ‘ Well,  there  we  were,  the 
dogs  and  the  men,  and  we  drew  nigh  the  thicket  and  beset  it,  and 
doubted  not  to  find  prey  therein : but  when  we  would  set  the  dogs 
at  the  thicket  to  enter  it,  they  were  uneasy,  and  would  not  take 
up  the  slot,  but  growled  and  turned  about  this  way  and  that,  so 
that  we  deemed  that  they  winded  some  fierce  beast  at  our  flanks 
or  backs. 

‘ Even  so  it  was,  and  fierce  enough  and  deadly  was  the  beast; 
for  suddenly  we  heard  bow-strings  twang,  and  shafts  came  flying; 
and  Iron-shield  of  the  Upper  Dale,  who  was  close  beside  me,  leapt 

158 


up  into  the  air  and  fell  down  dead  with  an  arrow  through  his  back. 
Then  I bethought  me  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  I cried  out, 
“ The  foe  are  on  us!  take  the  cover  of  the  tree-boles  and  be  wary ! 
For  the  Burg  and  the  Face!  For  the  Burg  and  the  Face!” 

*So  we  scattered  and  covered  ourselves  with  the  oak-boles,  but 
besides  Iron-shield,  who  was  slain  outright,  two  goodmen  were 
sorely  hurt,  to  wit  Bald-face,  a man  of  our  house,  and  Stonyford 
of  the  Lower  Dale. 

* I looked  from  behind  my  tree-bole,  a great  one;  and  far  off  down 
the  glades  I saw  men  moving,  clad  in  gay  raiment ; but  nearer 
to  me,  not  a hundred  yards  from  my  cover,  I saw  an  arm  clad  in 
scarlet  come  out  from  behind  a tree-bole,  so  I loosed  at  it,  and 
missed  not ; for  straight  there  tottered  out  from  behind  the  tree 
one  of  those  dusky  foul-favoured  men  like  to  those  that  were  slain 
by  Wood-grey.  I had  another  shaft  ready  notched,  so  I loosed 
and  set  the  shaft  in  his  throat,  and  he  fell. 

‘ Straightway  was  a yelling  and  howling  about  us  like  the  cries 
of  scalded  curs,  and  the  oak-wood  swarmed  thick  with  these  felons 
rushing  on  us  ; for  it  seems  that  the  man  whom  I had  slain  was  a 
chief  amongst  them,  or  we  judged  so  by  his  goodly  raiment. 

‘ Methought  then  our  last  day  was  come.  What  could  we  do 
but  run  together  again  after  we  had  loosed  at  a venture,  and  so 
withstand  them  sword  and  spear  in  hand?  Some  fell  beneath  our 
shot,  but  not  many,  for  they  came  on  very  swiftly. 

‘ So  they  fell  on  us ; but  for  all  their  fierceness  and  their  num- 
bers they  might  not  break  our  array,  and  we  slew  four  and  hurt 
many  by  sword-hewing  and  spear-casting  and  push  of  spear ; and 
five  of  us  were  hurt  and  one  slain  by  their  dart-casting.  So  they 
drew  off  from  us  a little,  and  strove  to  spread  out  and  fall  to  shoot- 
ing at  us  again ; but  this  we  would  not  suffer,  but  pushed  on  as 
they  fell  back,  keeping  as  close  together  as  we  might  for  the  trees. 
For  we  said  that  we  would  all  die  together  if  needs  must ; and 
verily  the  stour  was  hard. 

‘ Yet  hearken  ! In  that  nick  of  time  rose  up  a strange  cry  not 

159 


Battle  in  the 
Wood. 


The  Wolf 
howls. 


far  from  us,  Ha ! ha ! ha!  ha ! How-ow-ow  ! ending  like  the  howl 
of  a wolf,  and  then  another  and  another  and  another,  till  the 
whole  wood  rang  again. 

^ At  first  we  deemed  that  here  were  come  fresh  foemen,  and 
that  we  were  undone  indeed ; but  when  they  heard  it,  the  foe- 
men  before  us  faltered  and  gave  way,  and  at  last  turned  their 
backs  and  fied,  and  we  followed,  keeping  well  together  still : 
thereby  the  more  part  of  these  men  escaped  us,  for  they  fled 
wildly  here  and  there  from  those  who  bore  that  cry  with  them  ; 
so  we  knew  that  our  work  was  being  done  for  us ; therefore  we 
stood,  and  saw  tall  men  clad  in  sheep-brown  weed  running  through 
the  glades  pursuing  those  felons  and  smiting  them  down,  till  both 
fleers  and  pursuers  passed  out  of  our  sight  like  men  in  a dream, 
or  as  when  ye  roll  up  a pictured  cloth  to  lay  it  in  the  coffer. 

* But  to  Stone-face’s  mind  those  brown-clad  men  were  the 
Wights  of  the  Wood  that  be  of  the  Fathers’  blood,  and  our  very 
friends  ; and  when  some  of  us  would  yet  have  gone  forward  and 
foregathered  with  them,  and  followed  the  chase  along  with  them, 
Stone-face  gainsaid  it,  bidding  us  not  to  run  into  the  arms  of  a 
second  death,  when  we  had  but  just  escaped  from  the  first.  Sooth 
to  say,  moreover,  we  had  divers  hurt  men  that  needed  looking  to. 

‘ So  what  with  one  thing,  what  with  another,  we  turned  back : 
but  War-cliff’s  brother,  a tall  man,  had  felled  two  of  those  felons 
with  an  oak  sapling  which  he  had  torn  from  the  thicket ; but  he  had 
not  slain  them,  and  by  now  they  were  just  awakening  from  their 
swoon,  and  were  sitting  up  looking  round  them  with  fierce  roll- 
ing eyes,  expecting  the  stroke,  for  Raven  of  Longscree  was  stand- 
ing over  them  with  a naked  war-sword  in  his  hand.  But  now 
that  our  blood  was  cool,  we  were  loth  to  slay  them  as  they  lay 
in  our  hands;  so  we  bound  them  and  brought  them  away  with 
us;  and  our  own  dead  we  carried  also  on  such  biers  as  we  might 
lightly  make  there,  and  with  them  three  that  were  so  grievously 
hurt  that  they  might  not  go  afoot,  these  we  left  at  Carlstead : 
they  were  Tardy  the  Son  of  the  Untamed,  and  Swan  of  Bull- 


meadow,  both  of  the  Lower  Dale,  and  a Woodlander,  Undoomed  They  come  to 
to  wit.  But  the  dead  were  Iron-shield  aforesaid,  and  Wool-sark,  the  Gate, 
and  the  Hewer,  a Woodlander. 

‘ So  came  we  sadly  at  eventide  to  Burgstead  with  the  two  dead 
Burgdalers,  and  the  captive  felons,  and  the  wounded  of  us  that 
might  go  afoot ; and  }^e  may  judge  that  they  of  Burgdale  and  our 
father  deemed  these  tidings  great  enough,  and  wotted  not  what 
next  should  befall.  Stone-face  would  have  had  those  two  felons 
slain  there  and  then ; for  no  true  tale  could  we  get  out  of  them, 
nor  indeed  any  word  at  all.  But  the  Alderman  would  not  have 
it  so ; and  he  deemed  they  might  serve  our  turn  as  hostages  if 
any  of  our  folk  should  be  taken : for  one  and  all  we  deemed,  and 
still  deem,  that  war  is  on  us  and  that  new  folk  have  gathered  on 
our  skirts. 

^ So  the  captives  were  shut  up  in  the  red  out-bower  of  our 
house  ; and  our  father  was  minded  that  thou  mightest  tell  us  some- 
what of  them  when  thou  wert  come  home.  But  about  dusk  to- 
day the  word  went  that  they  had  broken  out  and  gotten  them 
weapons  and  fled  up  the  Dale ; and  so  it  was. 

‘ But  to-morrow  morning  will  a Gate-thing  be  holden,  and 
there  it  will  be  looked  for  of  thee  that  thou  tell  us  a true  tale  of 
thy  goings.  For  it  is  deemed,  and  it  is  my  deeming  especially, 
that  thou  may’st  tell  us  more  of  these  men  than  thou  hast  yet 
told  us.  Is  it  not  so  ? ’ 

‘Yea,  surely,’  said  Gold-mane,  ‘ I can  make  as  many  words 
as  ye  will  about  it ; yet  when  all  is  said,  it  will  come  to  much 
the  same  tale  as  I have  already  told  thee.  Yet  belike,  if  ye  are 
minded  to  take  up  the  sword  to  defend  you,  I may  tell  you  in 
what  wise  to  lay  hold  on  the  hilts.’ 

‘ And  that  is  well,’  said  Hall-face,  ‘ and  no  less  do  I look  for 
of  thee.  But  lo!  here  are  we  come  to  the  Gate  of  the  Burg  that 
abideth  battle.’ 


i6i 


Y 


CHAPTER  XXIII.  TALK  IN  THE  HALL  OF  THE  HOUSE 
OF  THE  FACE. 


Men  hearken 
in  the  Hall. 


IN  sooth  they  were  come  to  the  very  Gate  of  Burgstead, 
and  the  great  gates  were  shut,  and  only  a wicket  was  open, 
and  a half  score  of  stout  men  in  all  their  war-gear  were  hold- 
ing ward  thereby.  They  gave  place  to  Hall-face  and  his  com- 
pany, albeit  some  of  the  warders  followed  them  through  the  wicket 
that  they  might  hear  the  story  told. 

The  street  was  full  of  folk,  both  men  and  women,  talking  to- 
gether eagerly  concerning  all  these  tidings,  and  when  they  saw  the 
men  of  the  Hue-and-cry  they  came  thronging  about  them,  so  that 
they  might  scarce  get  to  the  door  of  the  House  of  the  Face  be- 
cause of  the  press ; so  Hall-face  (who  was  a very  tall  man) 
cried  out : 

‘ Good  people,  all  is  well ! the  runaways  are  slain,  and  Face- 
of-god  is  come  back  with  us ; give  place  a little,  that  we  may 
come  into  our  house.’ 

Then  the  throng  set  up  a shout,  and  made  way  a little,  so  that 
Hall-face  and  Gold-mane  and  the  others  could  get  to  the  door. 
And  they  entered  into  the  Hall,  and  saw  much  folk  therein  ; and 
men  were  sitting  at  table,  for  supper  was  not  yet  over.  But  when 
they  saw  the  new-comers  they  mostly  rose  up  from  the  board  end 
stood  silent  to  hear  the  tale,  for  they  had  been  talking  many  to- 
gether each  to  each,  so  that  the  Hall  was  full  of  confused  noise. 

So  Hall-face  again  cried  out : ‘ Men  in  this  hall,  good  is  the 
tidings.  The  runaways  are  slain;  and  it  was  Face-of-god  who 
slew  them  as  he  came  back  safe  from  the  waste.’ 

Then  they  shouted  for  joy,  and  the  brethren  and  Stone-face 
with  them  (for  he  had  entered  with  them  from  the  street)  went 
up  on  to  the  dais,  while  the  others  of  the  Hue-and-cry  gat  them 
seats  where  they  might  at  the  endlong  tables. 

But  when  Face-of-god  came  up  on  to  the  dais,  there  sat  Iron-face 
looking  down  on  the  thronged  Hall  with  a ruddy  cheerful  counte- 

162 


nance,  and  beside  him  sat  the  Bride ; for  he  had  caused  her  to  The  Bride 

be  brought  thither  when  he  had  heard  of  the  tidings  of  battle.  i<^isseth  Face- 

She  was  daintily  clad  in  a flame-coloured  kirtle  embroidered  with  again. 

gold  about  the  bosom  and  sleeves,  and  there  was  a fillet  of  golden 

roses  on  her  ruddy  hair.  Her  eyes  shone  bright  and  eager,  and 

the  pommels  of  her  cheeks  were  flushed  and  red  contrary  to  their 

wont.  Needs  must  Gold-mane  sit  by  her,  and  when  he  came  close 

to  her  he  knew  not  what  to  do,  but  he  put  forth  his  hand  to  her, 

yet  with  a troubled  countenance  ; for  he  feared  her  grief  mingled 

with  her  beauty : as  for  her,  she  wavered  in  her  mind  whether  she 

should  forbear  to  touch  him  or  not ; but  she  saw  that  men  about 

were  looking  at  them,  and  especially  was  Iron-face  looking  on 

her : therefore  she  stood  up  and  took  Gold-mane’s  hand  and 

kissed  his  face  as  she  had  been  wont  to  do,  and  by  then  was 

her  face  as  white  as  paper  ; and  her  anguish  pierced  his  heart,  so 

that  he  well-nigh  groaned  for  grief  of  her.  But  Iron-face  looked 

on  her  and  said  kindly : 

‘ Kinswoman,  thou  art  pale ; thou  hast  feared  for  thy  mate 
amidst  all  these  tidings  of  war,  and  still  fearest  for  him.  But 
pluck  up  a heart ; for  the  man  is  a deft  warrior  for  all  his  fair 
face,  which  thou  lovest  as  a woman  should,  and  his  hands  may  yet 
save  his  head.  And  if  he  be  slain,  yet  are  there  other  men  of  the 
kindred,  and  the  earth  will  not  be  a desert  to  thee  even  then.’ 

She  looked  at  Iron-face,  and  the  colour  was  come  back  to  her 
face  somewhat,  and  she  said : 

* It  is  true  ; I have  feared  for  him  ; for  he  goeth  into  perilous 
places.  But  for  thee,  thou  art  kind,  and  I thank  thee  for  it.’ 

And  therewith  she  kissed  Iron-face  and  sat  down  in  her  place, 
and  strove  to  overmaster  her  grief,  that  her  face  might  not  be 
changed  by  it;  for  now  were  thoughts  of  battle,  and  valiant  hopes 
arising  in  men’s  hearts  ; and  it  seemed  to  her  too  grievous  if  she 
should  mar  that  feast  on  the  eve  of  battle. 

But  Iron-face  kissed  and  embraced  his  son  and  said  : ^ Art 
thou  late  come  from  the  waste  ? Hast  thou  seen  new  things  ? 

163 


Face-of-god 
is  sorry. 


We  look  to  have  a notable  tale  from  thee  ; though  here  also  have 
been  tidings,  and  it  is  not  unlike  that  we  shall  presently  have  new 
work  on  our  hands.’ 

‘Father,’  quoth  Face-of-god,  ‘I  deem  that  when  thou  hast 
heard  my  tale  thou  wilt  think  no  less  of  it  than  that  there  are 
valiant  folk  to  be  holpen,  poor  folk  to  be  delivered,  and  evil  folk 
to  be  swept  from  off  the  face  of  the  earth.’ 

‘ It  is  well,  son,’  said  Iron-face.  ‘ I see  that  thy  tale  is  long  ; 
let  it  alone  for  to-night.  To-morrow  shall  we  hold  a Gate-thing, 
and  then  shall  we  hear  all  that  thou  hast  to  tell.  Now  eat  thy  meat 
and  drink  a bowl  of  wine,  and  comfort  thy  troth-plight  maiden.’ 
So  Gold-mane  sat  down  by  the  Bride,  and  ate  and  drank  as  he 
needs  must ; but  he  was  ill  at  ease  and  he  durst  not  speak  to  her. 
For,  on  the  one  hand,  he  thought  concerning  his  love  for  the  Sun- 
beam, and  how  sweet  and  good  a thing  it  was  that  she  should 
take  him  by  the  hand  and  lead  him  into  noble  deeds  and  great 
fame,  caressing  him  so  softly  and  sweetly  the  while  ; and,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  sat  the  Bride  beside  him,  sorrowful  and  angry, 
begrudging  all  that  sweetness  of  love,  as  though  it  were  something 
foul  and  unseemly ; and  heavy  on  him  lay  the  we  ight  of  that 
grudge,  for  he  was  a man  of  a friendly  heart. 

Stone-face  sat  outward  from  him  on  the  other  side  of  the  Bride ; 
and  he  leaned  across  her  towards  Gold-mane  and  said : 

‘ Fair  shall  be  thy  tale  to-morrow,  if  thou  tellest  us  all  thine 
adventure.  Or  wilt  thou  tell  us  less  than  all  ? ’ 

Said  Face-of-god  : ‘ In  good  time  shalt  thou  know  it  all,  fos- 
ter-father ; but  it  is  not  unlike  that  by  the  time  that  thou  hast 
heard  it,  there  shall  be  so  many  other  things  to  tell  of,  that  my 
tale  shall  seem  of  little  account  to  thee — even  as  the  saw  saith 
that  one  nail  driveth  out  the  other.’ 

‘Yea,’  said  Stone-face,  ‘but  one  tale  belike  shall  be  knit  up 
with  the  others,  as  it  fareth  with  the  figures  that  come  one  after 
other  on  the  weaver’s  cloth  ; though  one  maketh  not  the  other, 
yet  one  cometh  of  the  other.’ 

164 


Said  Face-of“god  : ‘ Wise  art  thou  now,  foster-father,  but  thou  The  garden 
shalt  be  wiser  yet  in  this  matter  by  then  a month  hath  worn  : and  of  the  Face, 
to-morrow  shalt  thou  know  enough  to  set  thine  hands  a-work.’ 

So  the  talk  fell  between  them ; and  the  night  wore,  and  the 
men  of  Burgdale  feasted  in  their  ancient  hall  with  merry  hearts, 
little  weighed  down  b}"  thought  of  the  battle  that  might  be  and 
the  trouble  to  come ; for  they  were  valorous  and  kindly  folk. 


CHAPTER  XXIV.  FACE-OF-GOD  GIVETH  THAT  TOKEN 
TO  THE  BRIDE. 

NOW  on  the  morrow,  when  Face-of-god  arose  and  other  men 
with  him,  and  the  Hall  was  astir  and  there  was  no  little 
throng  therein,  the  Bride  came  up  to  him  ; for  she  had 
slept  in  the  House  of  the  Face  by  the  bidding  of  the  Alderman  ; 
and  she  spake  to  him  before  all  men,  and  bade  him  come  forth 
with  her  into  the  garden,  because  she  would  speak  to  him  apart. 
He  yeasaid  her,  though  with  a heavy  heart ; and  to  the  folk 
about  that  seemed  meet  and  due,  since  those  twain  were  deemed 
to  be  troth-plight,  and  they  smiled  kindly  on  them  as  they  went 
out  of  the  Hall  together. 

So  they  came  into  the  garden,  where  the  pear-trees  were  blos- 
soming over  the  spring  lilies,  and  the  cherries  were  showering 
their  flowers  on  the  deep  green  grass,  and  everything  smelled 
sweetly  on  the  warm  windless  spring  morning. 

She  led  the  way,  going  before  him  till  they  came  by  a smooth 
grass  path  between  the  berry  bushes,  to  a square  space  of  grass 
about  which  were  barberry  trees,  their  first  tender  leaves  bright 
green  in  the  sun  against  the  dry  yellowish  twigs.  There  was  a 
sundial  amidmost  of  the  grass,  and  betwixt  the  garden-boughs 
one  could  see  the  long  grey  roof  of  the  ancient  hall ; and  sweet 
familiar  sounds  of  the  nesting  birds  and  men  and  women  going 
on  their  errands  were  all  about  in  the  scented  air.  She  turned 


The  oath 
sworn. 


about  at  the  sundial  and  faced  Face-of-god,  her  hand  lightly 
laid  on  the  scored  brass,  and  spake  with  no  anger  in  her  voice  : 

‘ I ask  thee  if  thou  hast  brought  me  the  token  whereon  thou 
shalt  swear  to  give  me  that  gift.’ 

‘Yea,’  said  he;  and  therewith  drew  the  ring  from  his  bosom, 
and  held  it  out  to  her.  She  reached  out  her  hand  to  him  slowly 
and  took  it,  and  their  fingers  met  as  she  did  so,  and  he  noted  that 
her  hand  was  warm  and  firm  and  wholesome  as  he  well  remem- 
bered it. 

She  said  : ‘ Whence  hadst  thou  this  fair  finger-ring  ? ’ 

Said  F ace-of-god : ‘ My  friend  there  in  the  mountain-valley  drew 
it  from  off  her  finger  for  thee,  and  bade  me  bear  thee  a message.’ 
Her  face  flushed  red  : ‘ Yea,’  she  said,  ‘ and  doth  she  send  me 
a message  ? Then  doth  she  know  of  me,  and  ye  have  talked  of 
me  together. — Well,  give  the  message  ! ’ 

Said  Face-of-god  : ‘She  saith,  that  thou  shalt  bear  in  mind. 
That  to-morrow  is  a new  day.’ 

‘ Yea,’  she  said,  ‘ for  her  it  is  so,  and  for  thee  ; but  not  for  me. 
But  now  I have  brought  thee  here  that  thou  mightest  swear  thine 
oath  to  me  ; lay  thine  hand  on  this  ring  and  on  this  brazen  plate 
whereby  the  sun  measures  the  hours  of  the  day  for  happy  folk, 
and  swear  by  the  spring-tide  of  the  year  and  all  glad  things  that 
find  a mate,  and  by  the  God  of  the  Earth  that  rejoiceth  in  the 
life  of  man.’ 

Then  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  finger-ring  as  it  lay  on  the  dial- 
plate  and  said ; 

‘ By  the  spring-tide  and  the  live  things  that  long  to  multiply 
their  kind ; by  the  God  of  the  Earth  that  rejoiceth  in  the  life  of 
man,  I swear  to  give  to  my  kinswoman  the  Bride  the  second 
man-child  that  I beget;  to  be  hers,  to  leave  or  cherish,  to  love  or 
hate,  as  her  will  may  bid  her.’  Then  he  looked  on  her  soberly 
and  said  : ‘ It  is  duly  sworn  ; is  it  enough  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,’  she  said  ; but  he  saw  how  the  tears  ran  out  of  her  eyes 
and  wetted  the  bosom  of  her  kirtle,  and  she  hung  her  head  for 

1 66 


shame  of  her  grief.  And  Gold-mane  was  all  abashed,  and  had 
no  word  to  say ; for  he  knew  that  no  word  of  his  might  comfort 
her  ; and  he  deemed  it  ill  done  to  stay  there  and  behold  her  sor- 
row ; and  he  knew  not  how  to  get  him  gone,  and  be  glad  elsewhere, 
and  leave  her  alone. 

Then,  as  if  she  had  read  his  thought,  she  looked  up  at  him  and 
said  smiling  a little  amidst  of  her  tears  : 

‘ I bid  thee  stay  by  me  till  the  flood  is  over ; for  I have  yet  a 
word  to  say  to  thee.’ 

So  he  stood  there  gazing  down  on  the  grass  in  his  turn,  and 
not  daring  to  raise  his  eyes  to  her  face,  and  the  minutes  seemed 
long  to  him  : till  at  last  she  said  in  a voice  scarcely  yet  clear  of 
weeping : 

‘ Wilt  thou  say  anything  to  me,  and  tell  me  what  thou  hast 
done,  and  why,  and  what  thou  deemest  will  come  of  it  ? ’ 

He  said  : ‘ I will  tell  the  truth  as  I know  it,  because  thou  askest 
it  of  me,  and  not  because  I would  excuse  myself  before  thee. 
What  have  I done  ? Yesterday  I plighted  my  troth  to  wed  the 
woman  that  I met  last  autumn  in  the  wood.  And  why  ? I wot  not 
why,  but  that  I longed  for  her.  Yeti  must  tell  thee  that  it  seemed 
to  me,  and  yet  seemeth,  that  I might  do  no  otherwise — that  there 
was  nothing  else  in  the  world  for  me  to  do.  What  do  I deem  will 
come  of  it,  sayest  thou  ? This,  that  we  shall  be  happy  together, 
she  and  I,  till  the  day  of  our  death.’ 

She  said  : ‘ And  even  so  long  shall  I be  sorry : so  far  are  we 
sundered  now.  Alas  ! who  looked  for  it  ? And  whither  shall  I 
turn  to  now  ? ’ 

Said  Gold-mane  : ‘ She  bade  me  tell  thee  that  to-morrow  is  a 
new  day  : meseemeth  I know  her  meaning.’ 

‘ No  word  of  hers  hath  any  meaning  to  me,’  said  the  Bride. 

‘ Nay,’  said  he,  * but  hast  thou  not  heard  these  rumours  of  war 
that  are  in  the  Dale  ? Shall  not  these  things  avail  thee  ? Much 
may  grow  out  of  them  ; and  thou  with  the  mighty  heart,  so  faith- 
ful and  compassionate ! ’ 


‘To-morrow 
is  a new  day.’ 


167 


Grief  and 
silence  in 
the  garden. 


She  said : ‘ What  sayest  thou  ? What  may  grow  out  of  them  ? 
Yea,  I have  heard  those  rumours  as  a man  sick  to  death  heareth 
men  talk  of  their  business  down  in  the  street  while  he  lieth  on  his 
bed ; and  already  he  hath  done  with  it  all,  and  hath  no  world  to 
mend  or  mar.  For  me  nought  shall  grow  out  of  it.  What  meanest 
thou  ? ’ 

Said  Gold-mane  : ‘ Is  there  nought  in  the  fellowship  of  Folks, 
and  the  aiding  of  the  valiant,  and  the  deliverance  of  the  hapless?  ’ 

‘ Nay,’  she  said,  ‘ there  is  nought  to  me.  I cannot  think  of  it 
to-day  nor  yet  to-morrow  belike.  Yet  true  it  is  that  I may  mingle 
in  it,  though  thinking  nought  of  it.  But  this  shall  not  avail  me.’ 
She  was  silent  a little,  but  presently  spake  and  said  : ‘ Thou 
sayest  right ; it  is  not  thou  that  hast  done  this,  but  the  woman  who 
sent  me  the  ring  and  the  message  of  an  old  saw.  O that  she 
should  be  born  to  sunder  us  ! How  hath  it  befallen  that  I am  now 
so  little  to  thee  and  she  so  much  ? ’ 

And  again  she  was  silent ; and  after  a while  Face-of-god  spake 
kindly  and  softly  and  said  : ^ Kinswoman,  wilt  thou  for  ever  be- 
grudge our  love  ? this  grudge  lieth  heavy  on  my  soul,  and  it  is  I 
alone  that  have  to  bear  it.’ 

She  said  : ‘ This  is  but  a light  burden  for  thee  to  bear,  when 
thou  hast  nought  else  to  bear  ! But  do  I begrudge  thee  thy  love. 
Gold-mane  ? I know  not  that.  Rather  meseemeth  I do  not  be- 
lieve in  it — nor  shall  do  ever.’ 

Then  she  held  her  peace  a long  while,  nor  did  he  speak  one  word : 
and  they  were  so  still,  that  a robin  came  hopping  about  them, 
close  to  the  hem  of  her  kirtle,  and  a starling  pitched  in  the  apple- 
tree  hard  by  and  whistled  and  chuckled,  turning  about  and  about, 
heeding  them  nought.  Then  at  last  she  lifted  up  her  face  from 
looking  on  the  grass  and  said  : ^ These  are  idle  words  and  avail 
nothing : one  thing  only  I know,  that  we  are  sundered.  And  now 
it  repenteth  me  that  I have  shown  thee  my  tears  and  my  grief 
and  my  sickness  of  the  earth  and  those  that  dwell  thereon.  I am 
ashamed  of  it,  as  if  thou  hadst  smitten  me,  and  I had  come  and 

i68 


shown  thee  the  stripes,  and  said,  See  what  thou  hast  done  ! hast 
thou  no  pity?  Yea,  thou  pitiest  me,  and  wilt  try  to  forget  thy 
pity.  Belike  thou  art  right  when  thou  sayest,  T o-morrow  is  a new 
day ; belike  matters  will  arise  that  will  call  me  back  to  life,  and 
I shall  once  more  take  heed  of  the  joy  and  sorrow  of  my  people. 
Nay,  it  is  most  like  that  this  I shall  feign  to  do  even  now.  But 
if  to-morrow  be  a new  day,  it  is  to-day  now  and  not  to-morrow, 
and  so  shall  it  be  for  long.  Hereof  belike  we  shall  talk  no  more, 
thou  and  I.  For  as  the  days  wear,  the  dealings  between  us  shall 
be  that  thou  shalt  but  get  thee  away  from  my  life,  and  I shall  be 
nought  to  thee  but  the  name  of  a kinswoman.  Thus  should  it  be 
even  wert  thou  to  strive  to  make  it  otherwise  ; and  thou  shalt  not 
strive.  So  let  all  this  be  ; for  this  is  not  the  word  I had  to  say  to 
thee.  But  hearken ! now  are  we  sundered,  and  it  irketh  me  beyond 
measure  that  folk  know  it  not,  and  are  kind,  and  rejoice  in  our 
love,  and  deem  it  a happy  thing  for  the  folk  ; and  this  burden  I 
may  bear  no  longer.  So  I shall  declare  unto  men  that  I will  not 
wed  thee  ; and  belike  they  may  wonder  why  it  is,  till  they  see  thee 
wedded  to  the  Woman  of  the  Mountain.  Art  thou  content  that 
so  it  shall  be  ? ’ 

Said  Face-of-god:  ‘Nay,  thou  shalt  not  take  this  all  upon 
thyself ; I also  shall  declare  unto  the  Folk  that  I will  wed  none 
but  her,  the  Mountain- Woman.’ 

She  said  : ‘ This  shalt  thou  not  do  ; I forbid  it  thee.  And  I 
will  take  it  all  upon  myself.  Shall  I have  it  said  of  me  that  I 
am  unmeet  to  wed  thee,  and  that  thou  hast  found  me  out  at  last 
and  at  latest  ? I lay  this  upon  thee,  that  wheresoever  I declare  this 
and  whatsoever  I may  say,  thou  shalt  hold  thy  peace.  This  at 
least  thou  may’st  do  for  me.  Wilt  thou  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,’  he  said,  ^ though  it  shall  put  me  to  shame.’ 

Again  she  was  silent  for  a little ; then  she  said : 

‘ O Gold-mane,  this  would  I take  upon  myself  not  soothly  for 
any  shame  of  seeming  to  be  thy  cast-off ; but  because  it  is  I who 
needs  must  bear  all  the  sorrow  of  our  sundering  ; and  I have  the 

169  Z 


The  Bride 
will  declare 
the  sundering 
of  the  troth- 
plight. 


Face-of-god  will  to  bear  it  greater  and  heavier,  that  I may  be  as  the  women 
is  sorry  for  of  old  time,  and  they  that  have  come  from  the  Gods,  lest  I belittle 
past  days,  malice  and  spite  and  confusion,  and  it  become 

poisonous  to  me.  Be  at  peace  ! be  at  peace  ! And  leave  all  to  the 
wearing  of  the  years ; and  forget  not  that  which  thou  hast  sworn ! ’ 
Therewith  she  turned  and  went  from  that  green  place  toward 
the  House  of  the  Face,  walking  slowly  through  the  gardenamongst 
the  sweet  odours,  beneath  the  fair  blossoms,  a body  most  dainty 
and  beauteous  of  fashion,  but  the  casket  of  grievous  sorrow,  which 
all  that  goodliness  availed  not. 

But  Face-of-god  lingered  in  that  place  a little,  and  for  that 
little  while  the  joy  of  his  life  was  dulled  and  overworn  ; and  the 
days  before  his  wandering  on  the  mountain  seemed  to  him  free  and 
careless  and  happy  days  that  he  could  not  but  regret.  He  was 
ashamed,  moreover,  that  this  so  unquenchable  grief  should  come 
but  of  him,  and  the  pleasure  of  his  life,  which  he  himself  had  found 
out  for  himself,  and  which  was  but  such  a little  portion  of  the  Earth 
and  the  deeds  thereof.  But  presently  his  thought  wandered  from 
all  this,  and  as  he  turned  away  from  the  sundial  and  went  his  ways 
through  the  garden,  he  called  to  mind  his  longing  for  the  day  of 
the  spring  market,  when  he  should  see  the  Sun-beam  again  and  be 
cherished  by  the  sweetness  of  her  love. 


CHAPTER  XXV.  OF  THE  GATE-THING  AT  BURGSTEAD. 

But  now  must  he  hasten,  for  the  Gate-thing  was  to  be 
holden  two  hours  before  noon ; so  he  betook  him  speedily 
to  the  Hall,  and  took  his  shield  and  did  on  a goodly  helm 
and  girt  his  sword  to  his  side,  for  men  must  needs  go  to  all  folk- 
motes  with  their  weapons  and  clad  in  war-gear.  Thus  he  went 
forth  to  the  Gate  with  many  others,  and  there  already  were  many 
folk  assembled  in  the  space  aforesaid  betwixt  the  Gate  of  the  Burg 
and  the  sheer  rocks  on  the  face  of  which  were  the  steps  that  led 

170 


up  to  the  ancient  Tower  on  the  height.  The  Alderman  was  Men  gather 
sitting  on  the  great  stone  by  the  Gate-side  which  was  his  appointed  to  the  Gate, 
place,  and  beside  him  on  the  stone  bench  were  the  six  Wardens 
of  the  Burg;  but  of  the  six  Wardens  of  the  Dale  there  were  but 
three,  for  the  others  had  not  yet  heard  tell  of  the  battle  or  had 
got  the  summons  to  the  Thing,  since  they  had  been  about  their 
business  down  the  Dale. 

Face-of-god  took  his  place  silently  amongst  the  neighbours,  but 
men  made  way  for  him,  so  that  he  must  needs  stand  in  front,  facing 
his  father  and  the  Wardens  ; and  there  went  up  a murmur  of  ex- 
pectation round  about  him,  both  because  the  word  had  gone  about 
that  he  had  a tale  of  new  tidings  to  tell,  and  also  because  men 
deemed  him  their  best  and  handiest  man,  though  he  was  yet 
so  young. 

Nov7  the  Alderman  looked  around  and  beheld  a great  throng 
gathered  together,  and  he  looked  on  the  shadow  of  the  Gate  which 
the  southering  sun  was  casting  on  the  hard  white  ground  of  the 
Thing-stead,  and  he  saw  that  it  had  just  taken  in  the  standing- 
stone  which  was  in  the  midst  of  the  place.  On  the  face  of  the 
said  stone  was  carven  the  image  of  a fighting  man  with  shield  on 
arm  and  axe  in  hand ; for  it  had  been  set  there  in  old  time  in 
memory  of  the  man  who  had  bidden  the  Folk  build  the  Gate  and 
its  wall,  and  had  showed  them  how  to  fashion  it : for  he  was  a 
deft  house-smith  as  well  as  a great  warrior  ; and  his  name  was 
Iron-hand.  So  when  the  Alderman  saw  that  this  stone  was  wholly 
within  the  shadow  of  the  Gate  he  knew  that  it  was  the  due  time 
for  the  hallowing-in  of  the  Thing.  So  he  bade  one  of  the  wardens 
who  sat  beside  him  and  had  a great  slug-horn  slung  about  him,  to 
rise  and  set  the  horn  to  his  mouth. 

So  that  man  arose  and  blew  three  great  blasts  that  went  bellow- 
ing about  the  towers  and  down  the  street,  and  beat  back  again 
from  the  face  of  the  sheer  rocks  and  up  them  and  over  into  the 
wild  wood;  and  the  sound  of  it  went  on  the  light  west-wind  along 
the  lips  of  the  Dale  toward  the  mountain  wastes.  And  many  a 

171 


The  Gate-  goodmaiij,  when  he  heard  the  voice  of  the  horn  in  the  bright  spring 
thing  morning,  left  spade  or  axe  or  plough-stilts,  or  the  foddering  of  the 

hallowed  in.  ewes  and  their  younglings,  and  turned  back  home  to  fetch  his 
sword  and  helm  and  hasten  to  the  Thing,  though  he  knew  not 
why  it  was  summoned : and  women  wending  over  the  meadows, 
who  had  not  yet  heard  of  the  battle  in  the  wood,  hearkened  and 
stood  still  on  the  green  grass  or  amidst  the  ripples  of  the  ford,  and 
the  threat  of  coming  trouble  smote  heavy  on  their  hearts,  for  they 
knew  that  great  tidings  must  be  towards  if  a Thing  must  needs 
be  summoned  so  close  to  the  Great  Folk-mote. 

But  now  the  Alderman  stood  up  and  spake  amidst  the  silence 
that  followed  the  last  echoes  of  the  horn : 

‘ Now  is  hallowed  in  this  Gate-thing  of  the  Burgstead  Men 
and  the  Men  of  the  Dale,  wherein  they  shall  take  counsel  concern- 
ing matters  late  befallen,  that  press  hard  upon  them.  Let  no  man 
break  the  peace  of  the  Holy  Thing,  lest  he  become  a man  accursed 
in  holy  places  from  the  plain  up  to  the  mountain,  and  from  the 
mountain  down  to  the  plain ; a man  not  to  be  cherished  of  any 
man  of  good  will,  not  be  holpen  with  victuals  or  edge-tool  or 
draught-beast ; a man  to  be  sheltered  under  no  roof-tree,  and 
warmed  at  no  hearth  of  man  : so  help  us  the  Warrior  and  the 
God  of  the  Earth,  and  Him  of  the  Face,  and  all  the  Fathers  !’ 
When  he  had  spoken  men  clashed  their  weapons  in  token  of 
assent;  and  he  sat  down  again,  and  there  was  silence  for  a space. 
But  presently  came  thrusting  forward  a goodman  of  the  Dale,  who 
seemed  as  if  he  had  come  hurriedly  to  the  Thing ; for  his  face  was 
running  down  with  sweat,  his  wide-rimmed  iron  cap  sat  awry 
over  his  brow,  and  he  was  girt  with  a rusty  sword  without  a 
scabbard,  and  the  girdle  was  ill-braced  up  about  his  loins.  So 
he  said  : 

^ I am  Red-coat  of  Waterless  of  the  Lower  Dale.  Early  this 
morning  as  I was  going  afield  I met  on  the  way  a man  akin  to  me, 
Fox  of  Upton  to  wit,  and  he  told  me  that  men  were  being  sum- 
moned to  a Gate-thing.  So  I turned  back  home,  and  caught  up 

172 


any  weapon  that  came  handy,  and  here  I am,  Alderman,  asking 
thee  of  the  tidings  which  hath  driven  thee  to  call  this  Thing  so 
hard  on  the  Great  Folk-mote,  for  I know  them  not.’ 

Then  stood  up  Iron-face  the  Alderman  and  said  : ‘ This  is 
well  asked,  and  soon  shall  ye  be  as  wise  as  I am  on  this  matter. 
Know  ye,  O men  of  Burgstead  and  the  Dale,  that  we  had  not 
called  this  Gate-thing  so  hard  on  the  Great  Folk-mote  had  not 
great  need  been  to  look  into  troublous  matters.  Long  have  ye 
dwelt  in  peace,  and  it  is  years  on  years  now  since  any  foeman  hath 
fallen  on  the  Dale  : but,  as  ye  will  bear  in  mind,  last  autumn  were 
there  ransackings  in  the  Dale  and  amidst  of  the  Shepherds  after 
the  manner  of  deeds  of  war ; and  it  troubleth  us  that  none  can  say 
who  wrought  these  ill  deeds.  Next,  but  a little  while  agone,  was 
Wood-grey,  a valiant  goodman  of  the  Woodlanders,  slain  close 
to  his  own  door  by  evil  men.  These  men  we  took  at  first  for  mere 
gangrel  felons  and  outcasts  from  their  own  folk : though  there  were 
some  who  spoke  against  that  from  the  beginning. 

^ But  thirdly  are  new  tidings  again  : for  three  days  ago,  while 
some  of  the  folk  were  hunting  peaceably  in  the  Wild- wood  and 
thinking  no  evil,  they  were  fallen  upon  of  set  purpose  by  a host  of 
men-at-arms,  and  nought  would  serve  but  mere  battle  for  dear 
life,  so  that  many  of  our  neighbours  were  hurt,  and  three  slain  out- 
right ; and  now  mark  this,  that  those  who  there  fell  upon  our  folk 
were  clad  and  armed  even  as  the  two  felons  that  slew  Wood-grey, 
and  moreover  were  like  them  in  aspect  of  body.  Now  stand  forth 
Hall-face  my  son,  and  answer  to  my  questions  in  a loud  voice,  so 
that  all  may  hear  thee.’ 

So  Hall-face  stood  forth,  clad  in  gleaming  war-gear,  with  an 
axe  over  his  shoulder,  and  seemed  a doughty  warrior.  And  Iron- 
face  said  to  him  : 

‘ Tell  me,  son,  those  whom  ye  met  in  the  wood,  and  of  whom 
ye  brought  home  two  captives,  how  much  like  were  they  to  the 
murder-carles  at  Wood-grey’s?’ 

Said  Hall-face  : ‘ As  like  as  peas  out  of  the  same  cod,  and  to 

173 


The  Aider- 
man  setteth 
forth  tidings. 


The  tale  of  our  e}^es  all  those  whom  we  saw  in  the  wood  might  have  been  sons 
Hall-face.  of  one  father  and  one  mother,  so  much  alike  were  they.’ 

‘ Yea,’  said  the  Alderman  ; ‘ now  tell  me  how  many  by  thy 
deeming  fell  upon  you  in  the  wood  ? ’ 

Said  Hall-face  : ^ We  deemed  that  if  they  were  any  less  than 
threescore,  they  were  little  less.’ 

‘ Great  was  the  odds,’  said  the  Alderman.  <Or  how  many 
were  ye  ? ’ 

‘ One  score  and  seven,’  said  Hall-face. 

Said  the  Alderman  : ‘ And  yet  ye  escaped  with  life  all  save 
those  three?’ 

Hall-face  said  : ‘ I deem  that  scarce  one  should  have  come 
back  alive,  had  it  not  been  that  as  we  fought  came  a noise  like 
the  howling  of  wolves,  and  thereat  the  foemen  turned  and  fled, 
and  there  followed  on  the  fleers  tall  men  clad  in  sheep-brown 
raiment,  who  smote  them  down  as  they  fled.’ 

‘ Here  then  is  the  story,  neighbours,’  said  the  Alderman,  ‘ and 
ye  may  see  thereby  that  if  those  slayers  of  Wood-grey  were  out- 
cast, their  band  is  a great  one ; but  it  seemeth  rather  that  they 
were  men  of  a folk  whose  craft  it  is  to  rob  with  the  armed  hand, 
and  to  slay  the  robbed  ; and  that  they  are  now  gathering  on  our 
borders  for  war.  Yet,  moreover,  they  have  foemen  in  the  woods 
who  should  be  fellows-in-arms  of  us.  How  sayest  thou.  Stone- 
face?  Thou  art  old,  and  hast  seen  many  wars  in  the  Dale,  and 
knowest  the  Wild-wood  to  its  innermost. 

‘ Alderman,’  said  Stone-face,  ‘ and  ye  neighbours  of  the  Dale, 
maybe  these  foes  whom  ye  have  met  are  not  of  the  race  of  man, 
but  are  trolls  and  wood-wights.  Now  if  they  be  trolls  it  is  ill, 
for  then  is  the  world  growing  worser,  and  the  wood  shall  be  right 
perilous  for  those  who  needs  must  fare  therein.  Yet  if  the}*  be 
men  it  is  a worse  matter ; for  the  trolls  would  not  come  out  of 
the  waste  into  the  sunlight  of  the  Dale.  But  these  foes,  if  they 
be  men,  are  lusting  after  our  fair  Dale  to  eat  it  up,  and  it  is  most 
like  that  they  are  gathering  a huge  host  to  fall  upon  us  at  home. 

174 


Such  things  I have  heard  of  when  I was  young,  and  the  aspect 
of  the  evil  men  who  overran  the  kindreds  of  old  time,  according 
to  all  tales  and  lays  that  I have  heard,  is  even  such  as  the  aspect 
of  those  whom  we  have  seen  of  late.  As  to  those  wolves  who 
saved  the  neighbours  and  chased  their  foemen,  there  is  one  here 
who  belike  knoweth  more  of  all  this  than  we  do,  and  that,  O 
Alderman,  is  thy  son  whom  I have  fostered,  Face-of-god  to  wit. 
Bid  him  answer  to  thy  questioning,  and  tell  us  what  he  hath 
seen  and  heard  of  late;  then  shall  we  verily  know  the  whole 
story  as  far  as  it  can  be  known.’ 

Then  men  pressed  round,  and  were  eager  to  hear  what  Face- 
of-god  would  be  saying.  But  or  ever  the  Alderman  could  begin 
to  question  him,  the  throng  was  cloven  by  new-comers,  and  these 
were  the  men  who  had  been  sent  to  bring  home  the  corpses  of  the 
Dusky  Men  : so  they  had  cast  loaded  hooks  into  the  Weltering 
Water,  and  had  dragged  up  him  whom  Face-of-god  had  shoved 
into  the  eddy,  and  who  had  sunk  like  a stone  just  where  he  fell, 
and  now  they  were  bringing  him  on  a bier  along  with  him  who 
had  been  slain  a-land.  They  were  set  down  in  the  place  before 
the  Alderman,  and  men  who  had  not  seen  them  before  looked 
eagerly  on  them  that  they  might  behold  the  aspect  of  their 
foemen ; and  nought  lovely  were  they  to  look  on ; for  the  drowned 
man  was  already  bleached  and  swollen  with  the  water,  and  the 
other,  his  face  was  all  wryed  and  twisted  with  that  spear-thrust 
in  the  mouth. 

Then  the  Alderman  said  : ‘ I would  question  my  son  Face-of- 
god.  Let  him  stand  forth!* 

And  therewith  he  smiled  merrily  in  his  son’s  face,  for  he  was 
standing  right  in  front  of  him ; and  he  said : 

‘Ask  of  me,  Alderman,  and  I will  answer.’ 

‘Kinsman,*  said  Iron-face,  ‘look  at  these  two  dead  men,  and 
tell  me,  if  thou  hast  seen  any  such  besides  those  two  murder- 
carles  who  were  slain  at  Carlstead ; or  if  thou  knowest  aught  of 
their  folk  ? ’ 


The  dead 
felons : 
Face-of-god 
questioned. 


175 


Face-of-god 
telleth  of 
Shadowy 
Vale. 


Said  Face-of-god : ‘Yesterday  I saw  six  others  like  to  these 
both  in  array  and  of  body,  and  three  of  them  I slew,  for  we  were 
in  battle  with  them  early  in  the  morning.’ 

There  was  a murmur  of  joy  at  this  word,  since  all  men  took 
these  felons  for  deadly  foemen ; but  Iron-face  said : ‘ What 
meanest  thou  by  “we”  ?’ 

‘ I and  the  men  who  had  guested  me  overnight,’  said  Face-of- 
god,  ‘ and  they  slew  the  other  three  ; or  rather  a woman  of  them 
slew  the  felons.’ 

‘ Valiant  she  was ; all  good  go  with  her  hand  ! ’ said  the  Aider- 
man.  ‘ But  what  be  these  people,  and  where  do  they  dwell  ? ’ 
Said  Face-of-god:  ‘As  to  what  they  are,  they  are  of  the  kin- 
dred of  the  Gods  and  the  Fathers,  valiant  men,  and  guest-cherish- 
ing : rich  have  they  been,  and  now  are  poor : and  their  poverty 
cometh  of  these  same  felons,  who  mastered  them  by  numbers  not 
to  be  withstood.  As  to  where  they  dwell : when  I say  the  name 
of  their  dwelling-place  men  mock  at  me,  as  if  I named  some 
valley  in  the  moon  : yet  came  I to  Burgdale  thence  in  one  day 
across  the  mountain-necks  led  by  sure  guides,  and  I tell  thee  that 
the  name  of  their  abode  is  Shadowy  Vale.’ 

‘Yea,’  said  Iron-face,  ‘knoweth  any  man  here  of  Shadowy 
Vale,  or  where  it  is?’ 

None  answered  for  a while;  but  there  was  an  old  man  who 
was  sitting  on  the  shafts  of  a wain  on  the  outskirts  of  the  throng, 
and  when  he  heard  this  word  he  asked  his  neighbour  what  the 
Alderman  was  saying,  and  he  told  him.  Then  said  that  elder : 
‘ Give  me  place ; for  I have  a word  to  say  hereon.’  Therewith 
he  arose,  and  made  his  way  to  the  front  of  the  ring  of  men,  and 
said:  ‘Alderman,  thou  knowest  me?’ 

‘Yea,’  said  Iron-face,  ‘thou  art  called  the  Fiddle,  because  of 
thy  sweet  speech  and  thy  minstrelsy;  whereof  I mind  me  well 
in  the  time  when  I was  young  and  thou  no  longer  young.’ 

‘ So  it  is,’  said  the  Fiddle.  ‘ Now  hearken  ! When  I was  very 
young  I heard  of  a vale  lying  far  away  across  the  mountain- 

176 


necks ; a vale  where  the  sun  shone  never  in  winter  and  scantily  The  Fiddle 

in  summer;  for  my  sworn  foster-brother,  Fight-fain,  a bold  man  hath  seen 

and  a great  hunter,  had  happened  upon  it;  and  on  a day  in  full 

midsummer  he  brought  me  thither;  and  even  now  I see  the  Vale 

before  me  as  in  a picture;  a marvellous  place,  well  grassed, 

treeless,  narrow,  betwixt  great  cliff-walls  of  black  stone,  with  a 

green  river  running  through  it  towards  a yawning  gap  and  a huge 

force.  Amidst  that  Vale  was  a doom-ring  of  black  stones,  and 

nigh  thereto  a feast-hall  well  builded  of  the  like  stones,  over 

whose  door  was  carven  the  image  of  a wolf  with  red  gaping 

jaws,  and  within  it  (for  we  entered  into  it)  were  stone  benches 

on  the  dais.  Thence  we  came  away,  and  thither  again  we  went 

in  late  autumn,  and  so  dusk  and  cold  it  was  at  that  season,  that 

we  knew  not  what  to  call  it  save  the  valley  of  deep  shade.  But 

its  real  name  we  never  knew;  for  there  was  no  man  there  to 

give  us  a name  or  tell  us  any  tale  thereof ; but  all  was  waste 

there ; the  wimbrel  laughed  across  its  water,  the  raven  croaked 

from  its  crags,  the  eagle  screamed  over  it,  and  the  voices  of  its 

waters  never  ceased;  and  thus  we  left  it.  So  the  seasons  passed, 

and  we  went  thither  no  more:  for  Fight-fain  died,  and  without 

him  wandering  over  the  waste  was  irksome  to  me;  so  never 

have  I seen  that  valley  again,  or  heard  men  tell  thereof. 

‘ Now,  neighbours,  have  I told  you  of  a valley  which  seemeth 
to  be  Shadowy  Vale;  and  this  is  true  and  no  made-up  story.’ 

The  Alderman  nodded  kindly  to  him,  and  then  said  to  Face- 
of-god : * Kinsman,  is  this  word  according  with  what  thou  knowest 
of  Shadowy  Vale  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,  on  all  points,’  said  Face-of-god;  ‘he  hath  put  before  me 
a picture  of  the  valley.  And  whereas  he  saith,  that  in  his  youth 
it  was  waste,  this  also  goeth  with  my  knowledge  thereof.  For  once 
was  it  peopled,  and  then  was  waste,  and  now  again  is  it  peopled/ 

‘Tell  us  then  more  of  the  folk  thereof,’  said  the  Alderman  ; 

‘ are  they  many  ? ’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ they  are  not.  How  might  they  be 

177  A A 


Frce-oF-god’s  many,  dwelling  in  that  narrow  Vale  amid  the  wastes  ? But  they 
story.  are  valiant,  both  men  and  women,  and  strong  and  well-liking. 

Once  they  dwelt  in  a fair  dale  called  Silver-dale,  the  name  whereof 
will  be  to  you  as  a name  in  a lay;  and  there  were  they  wealthy  and 
happy.  Then  fell  upon  them  this  murderous  Folk,  whom  they  call 
the  Dusky  Men  ; and  they  fought  and  were  overcome,  and  many 
of  them  were  slain,  and  many  enthralled,  and  the  remnant  of  them 
escaped  through  the  passes  of  the  mountains  and  came  back  to 
dwell  in  Shadowy  Vale,  where  their  forefathers  had  dwelt  long  and 
long  ago  ; and  this  overthrow  befell  them  ten  years  agone.  But 
now  their  old  foemen  have  broken  out  from  Silver-dale  and  have 
taken  to  scouring  the  wood  seeking  prey ; so  they  fall  upon  these 
Dusky  Men  as  occasion  serves,  and  slay  them  without  pity,  as  if 
they  were  adders  or  evil  dragons ; and  indeed  they  be  worse. 
And  these  valiant  men  know  for  certain  that  their  foemen  are 
now  of  mind  to  fall  upon  this  Dale  and  destroy  it,  as  they  have 
done  with  others  nigher  to  them.  And  they  will  slay  our  men, 
and  lie  with  oar  women  against  their  will,  and  enthrall  our  children, 
and  torment  all  those  that  lie  under  their  hands  till  life  shall  be 
worse  than  death  to  them.  Therefore,  O Alderman  and  Wardens, 
and  ye  neighbours  all,  it  behoveth  you  to  take  counsel  what  we 
shall  do,  and  that  speedily.’ 

There  was  again  a murmur,  as  of  men  nothing  daunted,  but 
intent  on  taking  some  way  through  the  coming  trouble.  But  no 
man  said  aught  till  the  Alderman  spake  : 

‘ When  didst  thou  first  happen  upon  this  Earl- folk,  son  ? ’ 

‘ Late  last  autumn,’  said  Face-of-god. 

Said  Iron-face  : ‘ Then  mightest  thou  have  told  us  of  this  tale 
before.’ 

‘ Yea,’  said  his  son,  ‘but  I knew  it  not,  or  but  little  of  it,  till 
two  days  agone.  In  the  autumn  I wandered  in  the  woodland,  and 
on  the  fell  I happened  on  a few  of  this  folk  dwelling  in  a booth 
by  the  pine-wood  ; and  they  were  kind  and  guest-fain  with  me, 
and  gave  me  meat  and  drink  and  lodging,  and  bade  me  come  to 


Shadowy  Vale  in  the  spring,  when  I should  know  more  of  them. 
And  that  was  I fain  of ; for  they  are  wise  and  goodl}^  men.  But 
I deemed  no  more  of  those  that  I saw  there  save  as  men  who  had 
been  outlawed  by  their  own  folk  for  deeds  that  were  unlawful  be- 
like, but  not  shameful,  and  were  biding  their  time  of  return,  and 
were  living  as  they  might  meanwhile.  But  of  the  whole  Folk 
and  their  foemen  knew  I no  more  than  ye  did,  till  two  days 
agone,  when  I met  them  again  in  Shadowy  Vale.  Also  I think 
before  long  ye  shall  see  their  chieftain  in  Burgstead,  for  he  hath 
a word  for  us.  Lastly,  my  mind  it  is  that  those  brown-clad  men 
who  helped  Hall-face  and  his  company  in  the  wood  were  nought 
but  men  of  this  Earl-kin  seeking  their  foemen ; for  indeed  they 
told  me  that  they  had  come  upon  a battle  in  the  woodland  where- 
in they  had  slain  their  foemen.  Now  have  I told  you  all  that  ye 
need  to  know  concerning  these  matters.’ 

Again  was  there  silence  as  Iron-face  sat  pondering  a question 
for  his  son ; then  a goodman  of  the  Upper  Dale,  Gritgarth  to  wit, 
spake  and  said  : 

‘ Gold-mane  mine,  tsll  us  how  many  is  this  folk  ; I mean  their 
fighting-men  ? ’ 

‘ Well  asked,  neighbour,’  said  Iron-face. 

Said  Face-of“god  : ^ Their  fighting-men  of  full  age  may  be 
five  score ; but  besides  that  there  shall  be  some  two  or  three 
score  of  women  that  will  fight,  whoever  says  them  nay ; and 
many  of  these  are  little  worse  in  the  field  than  men  ; or  no  worse, 
for  they  shoot  well  in  the  bow.  Moreover,  there  will  be  a full 
score  of  swains  not  yet  twenty  winters  old  whom  ye  may  not 
hinder  to  fight  if  anything  is  a-doing.’ 

‘ This  is  no  great  host,’  said  the  Alderman  ; ‘ yet  if  they  deem 
there  is  little  to  lose  by  fighting,  and  nought  to  gain  by  sitting 
still,  they  may  go  far  in  winning  their  desire ; and  that  more 
especially  if  they  may  draw  into  their  quarrel  some  other  valiant 
Folk  more  in  number  than  they  be.  I marvel  not,  though,  they 
were  kind  to  thee,  son  Gold-mane,  if  they  knew  who  thou  wert.’ 

179 


His  deeming 
of  the  men 
of  Shadowy 
Vale. 


The  goodmen 
give  out  their 
deeming  on 
the  matter. 


‘ They  knew  it,’  said  Face-of-god. 

‘Neighbours,’  said  the  Alderman,  ‘have  ye  any  rede  hereon, 
and  aught  to  say  to  back  your  rede  ? ’ 

Then  spake  the  Fiddle  : ‘ As  ye  know  and  may  see,  I am  now 
very  old,  and,  as  the  word  goes,  unmeet  for  battle : yet  might  I 
get  me  to  the  field,  either  on  mine  own  legs  or  on  the  legs  of  some 
four-foot  beast,  I would  strike,  if  it  were  but  one  stroke,  on  these 
pests  of  the  earth.  And,  Alderman,  meseemeth  we  shall  do  amiss 
if  we  bid  not  the  Earl-folk  of  Shadowy  Vale  to  be  our  fellows  in 
arms  in  this  adventure.  For  look  you,  how  few  soever  they  be, 
they  will  be  sure  to  know  the  ways  of  our  foemen,  and  the  moun- 
tain passes,  and  the  surest  and  nighest  roads  across  the  necks 
and  the  mires  of  the  waste ; and  though  they  be  not  a host,  yet 
shall  they  be  worth  a host  to  us  ? ’ 

When  men  heard  his  words  they  shouted  for  joy  of  them  ; for 
hatred  of  the  Dusky  Men  who  should  so  mar  their  happy  life  in 
the  Dale  was  growing  up  in  them,  and  the  more  that  hatred 
waxed,  the  more  waxed  their  love  of  those  valiant  ones. 

Now  Red-coat  of  Waterless  spake  again  : he  was  a big  man, 
both  tall  and  broad,  ruddy-faced  and  red-haired,  some  forty 
winters  old.  He  said  : 

‘ Life  hath  been  well  with  us  of  the  Lower  Dale,  and  we  deem 
that  we  have  much  to  lose  in  losing  it.  Yet  ill  would  the  bargain 
be  to  buy  life  with  thralldom  : we  have  been  over- merry  hitherto 
for  that.  Therefore  I say,  to  battle  ! And  as  to  these  men,  these 
well-wishers  of  Face-of-god,  if  they  also  are  minded  for  battle 
with  our  foes,  we  were  fools  indeed  if  we  did  not  join  them  to  our 
company,  were  they  but  one  score  instead  of  six.’ 

Men  shouted  again,  and  they  said  that  Red-coat  had  spoken  well . 
Then  one  after  other  the  goodmen  of  the  Dale  came  and  gave 
their  word  for  fellowship  in  arms  with  the  Men  of  Shadowy  Vale, 
if  there  were  such  as  Face-of-god  had  said,  which  they  doubted 
not;  and  amongst  them  that  spake  were  Fox  of  Nethertown, 
and  War  well,  and  Gritgarth,  and  Bearswain,  and  Warcliff,  and 


Hart  of  HighclifF,  and  Worm  of  Willowholm,  and  Bullsbane, 
and  Highneb  of  the  Marsh  : all  these  were  stout  men-at-arms 
and  men  of  good  counsel. 

Last  of  all  the  Alderman  spake  and  said  : 

‘ As  to  the  war,  that  must  we  needs  meet  if  all  be  sooth  that 
we  have  heard,  and  I doubt  it  not. 

‘ Now  therefore  let  us  look  to  it  like  wise  men  while  time  yet 
serves.  Ye  shall  know  that  the  muster  of  the  Dalesmen  will 
bring  under  shield  eight  long  hundreds  of  men  well-armed,  and 
of  the  Shepherd-Folk  four  hundreds,  and  of  the  Woodlanders  two 
hundreds ; and  this  is  a goodly  host  if  it  be  well  ordered  and 
wisely  led.  Now  am  I your  Alderman  and  your  Doomster,  and  I 
can  heave  up  a sword  as  well  as  another  maybe,  nor  do  I think 
that  I shall  blench  in  the  battle ; yet  I misdoubt  me  that  I am 
no  leader  or  orderer  of  men-of-war  : therefore  ye  will  do  wisely 
to  choose  a wiser  man-at-arms  than  I be  for  your  War-leader ; 
and  if  at  the  Great  Folk-mote,  when  all  the  Houses  and  Kindreds 
are  gathered,  men  3^easay  your  choosing,  then  let  him  abide  ; but 
if  the}^  naysay  it,  let  him  give  place  to  another.  For  time  presses. 
Will  ye  so  choose  ? ’ 

‘Yea,  jea!’  cried  all  men. 

‘ Good  is  that,  neighbours,’  said  the  Alderman.  ‘ Whom  will 
ye  have  for  War-leader  ? Consider  well.’ 

Short  was  their  rede,  for  every  man  opened  his  mouth  and  cried 
out  ‘ Face-of-god  ! ’ Then  said  the  Alderman  : 

‘The  man  is  young  and  untried  ; yet  though  he  is  so  near 
akin  to  me,  I will  say  that  ye  will  do  wisely  to  take  him ; for  he 
is  both  deft  of  his  hands  and  brisk ; and  moreover,  of  this  matter 
he  knoweth  more  than  all  we  together.  Now  therefore  I declare 
him  your  War-leader  till  the  time  of  the  Great  Folk-mote.’ 
Then  all  menshoutedwith  great  glee  and  clashed  their  weapons; 
but  some  few  put  their  heads  together  and  spake  apart  a little 
while,  and  then  one  of  them,  Red-coat  of  Waterless  to  wit,  came 
forward  and  said;  ‘Alderman,  some  of  us  deem  it  good  that 

i8i 


A War-leader 
chosen. 


The  War- 
leader  calleth 
men  afield. 


Stone-face,  the  old  man  wise  in  war  and  in  the  ways  of  the  Wood, 
should  be  named  as  a counsellor  to  the  War-leader ; and  Hall-face, 
a very  brisk  and  strong  young  man,  to  be  his  right  hand  and 
sword-bearer.’ 

‘Good  is  that,’  said  Iron-face.  ‘Neighbours,  will  ye  have  it  so?’ 

This  also  they  yeasaid  without  delay,  and  the  Alderman  de- 
clared Stone-face  and  Hall-face  the  helpers  of  Face-of-god  in 
this  business.  Then  he  said  : 

‘ If  any  hath  aught  to  say  concerning  what  is  best  to  be  done 
at  once,  it  were  good  that  he  said  it  now  before  all  and  not  to 
murmur  and  grudge  hereafter.’ 

None  spake  save  the  Fiddle,  who  said  : ‘Alderman  and  War- 
leader,  one  thing  would  I say  : that  if  these  foemen  are  anywise 
akin  to  those  overrunners  of  the  Folks  of  whom  the  tales  went  in 
my  youth  (for  I also  as  well  as  Stone-face  mind  me  well  of  those 
tales  concerning  them),  it  shall  not  avail  us  to  sit  still  and  await 
their  onset.  For  then  may  they  not  be  withstood,  when  they 
have  gathered  head  and  burst  out  and  over  the  folk  that  have 
been  happy,  even  as  the  waters  that  overtop  a dyke  and  cover 
with  their  muddy  ruin  the  deep  green  grass  and  the  flower-buds 
of  spring.  Therefore  my  rede  is,  as  soon  as  may  be  to  go  seek 
these  folk  in  the  woodland  and  wheresoever  else  they  may  be 
wandering.  What  sayest  thou,  Face-of-god?’ 

‘ My  rede  is  as  thine,’  said  he  ; ‘ and  to  begin  with,  I do  now 
call  upon  ten  tens  of  good  men  to  meet  me  in  arms  at  the  begin- 
ning of  Wildlake’s  Way  to-morrow  morning  at  daybreak ; and  I 
bid  my  brother  Hall-face  to  summon  such  as  are  most  meet  thereto. 
For  this  I deem  good,  that  we  scour  the  wood  daily  at  present 
till  we  hear  fresh  tidings  from  them  of  Shadowy  Vale,  who  are 
nigher  than  we  to  the  foemen.  Now,  neighbours,  are  ye  ready 
to  meet  me  ? ’ 

Then  all  shouted,  ‘ Yea,  we  will  go,  we  will  go  ! ’ 

Said  the  Alderman : ‘ Now  have  we  made  provision  for  the  war 
in  that  which  is  nearest  to  our  hands.  Yet  have  we  to  deal  with 

182 


the  matter  of  the  fellowship  with  the  Folk  whom  Face-of-god 
hath  seen.  This  is  a matter  for  thee,  son,  at  least  till  the  Great 
Folk-mote  is  holden.  Tell  me  then,  shall  we  send  a messenger 
to  Shadowy  Vale  to  speak  with  this  folk,  or  shall  we  abide  the 
chieftain’s  coming?’ 

^ By  my  rede,’  said  Face-of-god,  ^we  shall  abide  his  coming  : 
for  first,  though  I might  well  make  my  way  thither,  I doubt  if  I 
could  give  any  the  bearings,  so  that  he  could  come  there  without 
me ; and  belike  I am  needed  at  home,  since  I am  become  War- 
leader.  Moreover,  when  your  messenger  cometh  to  Shadowy 
Vale,  he  may  well  chance  to  find  neither  the  chieftain  there,  nor 
the  best  of  his  men ; for  whiles  are  they  here,  and  whiles  there,  as 
they  wend  following  after  the  Dusky  Men.’ 

‘It  is  well,  son,’  said  the  Alderman,  ‘ let  it  be  as  thou  sayest : 
soothly  this  matter  must  needs  be  brought  before  the  Great  Folk- 
mote.  Now  will  I ask  if  any  other  hath  any  word  to  say,  or  any 
rede  to  give  before  this  Gate-thing  sundereth  ? ’ 

But  no  man  came  forward,  and  all  men  seemed  well  content 
and  of  good  heart ; and  it  was  now  well  past  noontide. 


CHAPTER  XXVI.  THE  ENDING  OF  THE  GATE-THING. 

But  just  as  the  Alderman  was  on  the  point  of  rising  to  declare 
the  breaking-up  of  the  Thing,  there  came  a stir  in  the  throng 
and  it  opened,  and  a warrior  came  forth  into  the  innermost 
of  the  ring  of  men,  arrayed  in  goodly  glittering  war-gear;  clad  in 
such  wise  that  a tunicle  of  precious  gold- wrought  web  covered  the 
hauberk  all  but  the  sleeves  thereof,  and  the  hem  of  it  beset  with  blue 
mountain-stones  smote  against  the  ankles  and  well-nigh  touched 
the  feet,  shod  with  sandals  gold-embroidered  and  gemmed.  This 
warrior  bore  a goodly  gilded  helm  on  the  head,  and  held  in  hand 
a spear  with  gold-garlanded  shaft,  and  was  girt  with  a sword  whose 
hilts  and  scabbard  both  were  adorned  with  gold  and  gems  : beard- 


A fair-clad 
warrior. 


less,  smooth-cheeked,  exceeding  fair  of  face  was  the  warrior,  but 
pale  and  somewhat  haggard-eyed  : and  those  who  were  nearby 
beheld  and  wondered ; for  they  saw  that  there  was  come  the  Bride 
arrayed  for  war  and  battle,  as  if  she  were  a messenger  from  the 
House  of  the  Gods,  and  the  Burg  that  endureth  for  ever. 

Then  she  fell  to  speech  in  a voice  which  at  first  was  somewhat 
hoarse  and  broken,  but  cleared  as  she  went  on,  and  she  said : 

‘ There  sittest  thou,  O Alderman  of  Burgdale  ! Is  Face-of-god 
thy  son  anywhere  nigh,  so  that  he  can  hear  me  ? ’ 

But  Iron-face  wondered  at  her  word,  and  said  : ‘ He  is  beside 
thee,  as  he  should  be.’  For  indeed  Face-of-god  was  touching  her, 
shoulder  to  shoulder.  But  she  looked  not  to  the  right  hand  nor 
the  left,  but  said  : 

‘ Hearken,  Iron-face!  Chief  of  the  House  of  the  Face,  Alderman 
of  the  Dale,  and  ye  also,  neighbours  and  goodmen  of  the  Dale  : 
I am  a woman  called  the  Bride,  of  the  House  of  the  Steer,  and  ye 
have  heard  that  I have  plighted  my  troth  to  Face-of-god  to  wed 
with  him,  to  love  him,  and  lie  in  his  bed.  But  it  is  not  so : we 
are  not  troth-plight ; nor  will  I wed  with  him,  nor  any  other,  but 
will  wend  with  you  to  the  war,  and  play  my  part  therein  accord- 
ing to  what  might  is  in  me  ; nor  will  I be  worser  than  the  wives 
of  Shadowy  Vale.’ 

Face-of-god  heard  her  words  with  no  change  of  countenance  ; 
but  Iron-face  reddened  over  all  his  face,  and  stared  at  her,  and 
knit  his  brows  and  said  : 

‘ Maiden,  what  are  these  words  ? What  have  we  done  to 
thee  ? Have  I not  been  to  thee  as  a father,  and  loved  thee  dearly  ? 
Is  not  my  son  goodly  and  manly  and  deft  in  arms  ? Hath  it  not 
ever  been  the  wont  of  the  House  of  the  Face  to  wed  in  the  House 
of  the  Steer  ? and  in  these  two  Houses  there  hath  never  yet  been 
a goodlier  man  and  a lovelier  maiden  than  are  ye  two.  What  have 
we  done  then  ? ’ 

‘Ye  have  done  nought  against  me,’  she  said,  ‘and  all  that 
thou  sayest  is  sooth ; yet  will  I not  wed  with  Face-of-god.’ 

184 


Yet  fiercer  waxed  the  face  of  the  Alderman,  and  he  said  in  a 
loud  voice  : 

‘ But  how  if  I tell  thee  that  I will  speak  with  thy  kindred  of 
the  Steer,  and  thou  shalt  do  after  my  bidding  whether  thou  wilt 
or  whether  thou  wilt  not  ? ’ 

‘ And  how  will  ye  compel  me  thereto  ? ’ she  said.  ^ Are  there 
thralls  in  the  Dale  ? Or  will  ye  make  me  an  outlaw  ? Who 
shall  heed  it  ? Or  I shall  betake  me  to  Shadowy  Vale  and  become 
one  of  their  warrior-maidens.’ 

Now  was  the  Alderman’s  face  changing  from  red  to  white,  and 
belike  he  forgat  the  Thing,  and  what  he  was  doing  there,  and  he 
cried  out : 

‘ This  is  an  evil  day,  and  who  shall  help  me  ? Thou,  Face- 
of-god,  what  hast  thou  to  say?  Wilt  thou  let  this  woman  go 
without  a word  ? What  hath  bewitched  thee  ? ’ 

But  never  a word  spake  his  son,  but  stood  looking  straight 
forward,  cold  and  calm  by  seeming.  Then  turned  Iron-face  again 
to  the  Bride,  and  said  in  a softer  voice  : 

‘ T ell  me,  maiden,  whom  I erst  called  daughter,  what  hath  be- 
fallen, that  thou  wilt  leave  my  son ; thou  who  wert  once  so  kind 
and  loving  to  him  ; whose  hand  was  always  seeking  his,  whose 
eyes  were  ever  following  his ; who  wouldst  go  where  he  bade, 
and  come  when  he  called.  What  hath  betid  that  ye  have  cast 
him  out,  and  flee  from  our  House  ? ’ 

She  flushed  red  beneath  her  helm  and  said : 

‘ There  is  war  in  the  land,  and  I have  seen  it  coming,  and  that 
things  shall  change  around  us.  I have  looked  about  me  and  seen 
men  happy  and  women  content,  and  children  weary  for  mere 
mirth  and  joy.  And  I have  thought,  in  a day,  or  two  days  or  three, 
all  this  shall  be  changed,  and  the  women  shall  be,  some  anxious 
and  wearied  with  waiting,  some  casting  all  hope  away  ; and  the 
men,  some  shall  come  back  to  the  garth  no  more,  and  some  shall 
come  back  maimed  and  useless,  and  there  shall  be  loss  of  friends 
and  fellows,  and  mirth  departed,  and  dull  days  and  empty  hours, 

185  B B 


Iron- face  is 
angry. 


Fair  words  of  and  the  children  wandering  about  marvelling  at  the  sorrow  of 
the  Bride.  the  house.  All  this  I saw  before  me,  and  grief  and  pain  and 

wounding  and  death ; and  I said  : Shall  I be  any  better  than 
the  worst  of  the  folk  that  loveth  me  ? Nay,  this  shall  never  be ; 
and  since  I have  learned  to  be  deft  with  mine  hands  in  all  the  play 
of  war,  and  that  I am  as  strong  as  many  a man,  and  as  hardy- 
hearted  as  any,  I will  give  myself  to  the  Warrior  and  the  God 
of  the  Face;  and  the  battle-field  shall  be  my  home,  and  the  after- 
grief of  the  fight  my  banquet  and  holiday,  that  I may  bear  the 
burden  of  my  people,  in  the  battle  and  out  of  it ; and  know  every 
sorrow  that  the  Dale  hath ; and  cast  aside  as  a grievous  and  ugly 
thing  the  bed  of  the  warrior  that  the  maiden  desires,  and  the  toying 
of  lips  and  hands  and  soft  words  of  desire,  and  all  the  joy  that 
dwelleth  in  the  Castle  of  Love  and  the  Garden  thereof ; while  the 
world  outside  is  sick  and  sorry,  and  the  fields  lie  waste  and  the 
harvest  burneth.  Even  so  have  I sworn,  even  so  will  I do.’ 

Her  eyes  glittered  and  her  cheek  was  fiushed,  and  her  voice  was 
clear  and  ringing  now;  and  when  she  ended  there  arose  a murmur  of 
praise  from  the  men  round  about  her.  But  Iron-face  said  coldly  : 

‘ These  are  great  words;  but  I know  not  what  they  mean.  If 
thou  wilt  to  the  field  and  fight  among  the  carles  (and  that  I would 
not  naysay,  for  it  hath  oft  been  done  and  praised  aforetime),  why 
shouldest  thou  not  go  side  by  side  with  Face-of-god  and  as  his 
plighted  maiden?’ 

The  light  which  the  sweetness  of  speech  had  brought  into  her 
face  had  died  out  of  it  now,  and  she  looked  weary  and  hapless  as 
she  answered  him  slowly : 

‘ I will  not  wed  with  Face-of-god,  but  will  fare  afield  as  a 
virgin  of  war,  as  I have  sworn  to  the  Warrior.’ 

Then  waxed  Iron-face  exceeding  wroth,  and  he  rose  up  before 
all  men  and  cried  loudly  and  fiercely  : 

‘ There  is  some  lie  abroad,  that  windeth  about  us  as  the  gos- 
samers in  the  lanes  of  an  autumn  morning.’ 

And  therewith  he  strode  up  to  Face-of-god  as  though  he  had 

i86 


nought  to  do  with  the  Thing;  and  he  stood  before  him  and  cried 
out  at  him  while  all  men  wondered  : 

‘Thou!  what  hast  thou  done  to  turn  this  maiden’s  heart  to 
stone  ? Who  is  it  that  is  devising  guile  with  thee  to  throw  aside 
this  worthy  wedding  in  a worthy  House,  with  whom  our  sons  are 
ever  wont  to  wed  ? Speak,  tell  the  tale!  ’ 

But  Face-of>god  held  his  peace  and  stood  calm  and  proud  be- 
fore all  men. 

Then  the  blood  mounted  to  Iron-face’s  head,  and  he  forgat  folk 
and  kindred  and  the  war  to  come,  and  he  cried  so  that  all  the  place 
rang  with  the  words  of  his  anger  : 

‘Thou  dastard!  I see  thee  now;  it  is  thou  that  hast  done  this, 
and  not  the  maiden ; and  now  thou  hast  made  her  bear  a double 
burden,  and  set  her  on  to  speak  for  thee,  whilst  thou  standest  by 
saying  nought,  and  wilt  take  no  scruple’s  weight  of  her  shame 
upon  thee ! ’ 

But  his  son  spake  never  a word,  and  Iron-face  cried : ‘ Out  on 
thee  ! I know  thee  now,  and  why  thou  wouldest  not  to  the  West- 
land  last  winter.  I am  no  fool ; I know  thee.  Where  hast  thou 
hidden  the  stranger  woman  ? ’ 

Therewith  he  drew  forth  his  sword  and  hove  it  aloft  as  if  to 
hew  down  Face-of-god,  who  spake  not  nor  flinched  nor  raised 
a hand  from  his  side.  But  the  Bride  threw  herself  in  front  of 
Gold-mane,  while  there  arose  an  angry  cry  of  ‘The  Peace  of  the 
Holy  Thing ! Peace-breaking,  peace-breaking ! ’ and  some  cried, 
‘ For  the  War-leader,  the  War-leader  ! ’ and  as  men  could  for  the 
press  they  drew  forth  their  swords,  and  there  was  tumult  and  noise 
all  over  the  Thing-stead. 

But  Stone-face  caught  hold  of  the  Alderman’s  right  arm  and 
dragged  down  the  sword,  and  the  big  carle.  Red-coat  of  Water- 
less, came  up  behind  him  and  cast  his  arms  about  his  middle  and 
drew  him  back  ; and  presently  he  looked  around  him,  and  slowly 
sheathed  his  sword,  and  went  back  to  his  place  and  sat  him  down ; 
and  in  a little  while  the  noise  abated  and  swords  were  sheathed, 

187 


Iron-face 
would  break 
the  peace  of 
the  Thing. 


The  Aider- 
man  dooms 
the  peace- 
breaker. 


and  men  waxed  quiet  again,  and  the  Alderman  arose  and  said  in 
a loud  voice,  but  in  the  wonted  way  of  the  head  man  of  the  Thing : 

^ Here  hath  been  trouble  in  the  Holy  Thing  ; a violent  man 
hath  troubled  it,  and  drawn  sword  on  a neighbour ; will  the  neigh- 
bours give  the  dooming  hereof  into  the  hands  of  the  Alderman  ? ’ 

Now  all  knew  Iron-face,  and  they  cried  out,  ‘ That  will  we.’ 
So  he  spake  again  : 

‘ I doom  the  troubler  of  the  Peace  of  the  Holy  Thing  to  pay  a 
fine,  to  wit  double  the  blood-wite  that  would  be  duly  paid  for  a 
full-grown  freeman  of  the  kindreds.’ 

Then  the  cry  went  up  and  men  yeasaid  his  doom,  and  all  said 
that  it  was  well  and  fairly  doomed ; and  Iron-face  sat  still. 

But  Stone-face  stood  forth  and  said  : 

‘ Here  have  been  wild  words  in  the  air  ; and  dreams  have  taken 
shape  and  come  amongst  us,  and  have  bewitched  us,  so  that  friends 
and  kin  have  wrangled.  And  meseemeth  that  this  is  through  the 
wizardry  of  these  felons,  who,  even  dead  as  they  are,  have  cast 
spells  over  us.  Good  it  were  to  cast  them  into  the  Death  Tarn, 
and  then  to  get  to  our  work ; for  there  is  much  to  do.’ 

All  men  yeasaid  that ; and  Forkbeard  of  Lea  went  with 
those  who  had  borne  the  corpses  thither  to  cast  them  into  the 
black  pool. 

But  the  Fiddle  spake  and  said  : 

‘ Stone-face  sayeth  sooth.  O Alderman,  thou  art  no  young  man, 
yet  am  I old  enough  to  be  thy  father ; so  will  I give  thee  a rede, 
and  say  this  : Face-of-god  thy  son  is  no  liar  or  dastard  or  be- 
guiler,  but  he  is  a young  man  and  exceeding  goodly  of  fashion, 
well-spoken  and  kind  ; so  that  few  women  may  look  on  him  and 
hear  him  without  desiring  his  kindness  and  love,  and  to  such  men 
as  this  many  things  happen.  Moreover,  he  hath  now  become  our 
captain,  and  is  a deft  warrior  with  his  hands,  and  as  I deem,  a sober 
and  careful  leader  of  men ; therefore  we  need  him  and  his  courage 
and  his  skill  of  leading.  So  rage  not  against  him  as  if  he  had 
done  an  ill  deed  not  to  be  forgiven — whatever  he  hath  done, 

i88 


whereof  we  know  not — for  life  is  long  before  him,  and  most  like 
we  shall  still  have  to  thank  him  for  many  good  deeds  towards  us. 
As  for  the  maiden,  she  is  both  lovely  and  wise.  She  hath  a sorrow 
at  her  heart,  and  we  deem  that  we  know  what  it  is.  Yet  hath 
she  not  lied  when  she  said  that  she  would  bear  the  burden  of  the 
griefs  of  the  people.  Even  so  shall  she  do ; and  whether  she  will, 
or  whether  she  will  not,  that  shall  heal  her  own  griefs.  For  to- 
morrow is  a new  day.  Therefore,  if  thou  do  after  my  rede,  thou 
wilt  not  meddle  betwixt  these  twain,  but  wilt  remember  all  that 
we  have  to  do,  and  that  war  is  coming  upon  us.  And  when  that 
is  over,  we  shall  turn  round  and  behold  each  other,  and  see  that 
we  are  not  wholly  what  we  were  before ; and  then  shall  that 
which  were  hard  to  forgive,  be  forgotten,  and  that  which  is  remem- 
bered be  easy  to  forgive.’ 

So  he  spake ; and  Iron-face  sat  still  and  put  his  left  hand  to 
his  beard  as  one  who  pondereth ; but  the  Bride  looked  in  the  face 
of  the  old  man  the  Fiddle,  and  then  she  turned  and  looked  at 
Gold-mane,  and  her  face  softened,  and  she  stood  before  the  Aider- 
man,  and  bent  down  before  him  and  held  out  both  her  hands  to 
him  the  palms  upward.  Then  she  said:  ‘Thou  hast  been  wroth 
with  me,  and  I marvel  not ; for  thy  hope,  and  the  hope  which  we 
all  had,  hath  deceived  thee.  But  kind  indeed  hast  thou  been  to 
me  ere  now  : therefore  I pray  thee  take  it  not  amiss  if  I call  to  thy 
mind  the  oath  which  thou  swearedst  on  the  Holy  Boar  last  Yule, 
that  thou  wouldst  not  gainsay  the  prayer  of  any  man  if  thou 
couldest  perform  it ; therefore  I bid  thee  naysay  not  mine  : and 
that  is,  that  thou  wilt  ask  me  no  more  about  this  matter,  but  wilt 
suffer  me  to  fare  afield  like  any  swain  of  the  Dale,  and  to  deal  so 
with  my  folk  that  they  shall  not  hinder  me.  Also  I pray  thee  that 
thou  wilt  put  no  shame  upon  Face-of-god  my  playmate  and  my 
kinsman,  nor  show  thine  anger  to  him  openly,  even  if  for  a little 
while  thy  love  for  him  be  abated.  No  more  than  this  will  I ask 
of  thee.’ 

All  men  who  heard  her  were  moved  to  the  heart  by  her  kind- 

189 


Peace  at  the 
Thing. 


Men  go  home  ness  and  the  sweetness  of  her  voice,  which  was  like  to  the  robin 
from  the  singing  suddenly  on  a frosty  morning  of  early  winter.  But  as 
Gate-thing.  Gold-mane,  his  heart  was  smitten  sorely  by  it,  and  her  sor- 

row and  her  friendliness  grieved  him  out  of  measure. 

But  Iron-face  answered  after  a little  while,  speaking  slowly 
and  hoarsely,  and  with  the  shame  yet  clinging  to  him  of  a man 
who  has  been  wroth  and  has  speedily  let  his  wrath  run  off  him. 
So  he  said : 

‘ It  is  well,  my  daughter.  I have  no  will  to  forswear  myself ; 
nor  hast  thou  asked  me  a thing  which  is  over-hard.  Yet  indeed 
I would  that  to-day  were  yesterday,  or  that  many  days  were 
worn  away.’ 

Then  he  stood  up  and  cried  in  a loud  voice  over  the  throng : 
‘Let  none  forget  the  muster;  but  hold  him  ready  against  the 
time  that  the  Warden  shall  come  to  him.  Let  all  men  obey  the 
War-leader,  Face-of-god,  without  question  or  delay.  As  to  the 
fine  of  the  peace-breaker,  it  shall  be  laid  on  the  altar  of  the  God 
at  the  Great  Folk-mote.  Herewith  is  the  Thing  broken  up.’ 

Then  all  men  shouted  and  clashed  their  weapons,  and  so 
sundered,  and  went  about  their  business. 

And  the  talk  of  men  it  was  that  the  breaking  of  the  troth- 
plight  between  those  twain  was  ill ; for  they  loved  Face-of-god, 
and  as  for  the  Bride  they  deemed  her  the  Dearest  of  the  kin- 
dreds and  the  Jewel  of  the  Folk,  and  as  if  she  were  the  fairest 
and  the  kindest  of  all  the  Gods.  Neither  did  the  wrath  of  Iron- 
face  mislike  any ; but  they  said  he  had  done  well  and  manly 
both  to  be  wroth  and  to  let  his  wrath  run  off  him.  As  to  the 
war  which  was  to  come,  they  kept  a good  heart  about  it,  and 
deemed  it  as  a game  to  be  played,  wherein  they  might  show 
themselves  deft  and  valiant,  and  so  get  back  to  their  merry 
life  again. 

So  wore  the  day  through  afternoon  to  even  and  night. 


CHAPTER  XXVII.  FACE-OF-GOD  LEADETH  A BAND 
THROUGH  THE  WOOD. 


Next  morning  tryst  was  held  faithfully,  and  an  hundred 
and  a half  were  gathered  together  on  Wildlake’s  Way; 
and  Face-of-god  ordered  them  into  three  companies. 
He  made  Hall-face  leader  over  the  first  one,  and  bade  him  hold 
on  his  way  northward,  and  then  to  make  for  Bcars-bait  and 
see  if  he  should  meet  with  anything  thereabout  where  the  battle 
had  been.  Red-coat  of  Waterless  he  made  captain  of  the 
second  band ; and  he  had  it  in  charge  to  wend  eastward  along 
the  edge  of  the  Dale,  and  not  to  go  deep  into  the  wood,  but  to 
go  as  far  as  he  might  within  the  time  appointed,  tov/ard  the 
Mountains.  Furthermore,  he  bade  both  Hall-face  and  Red-coat 
to  bring  their  bands  back  to  Wildlake’s  Way  by  the  morrow 
at  sunset,  where  other  goodmen  should  be  come  to  take  the  places 
of  their  men  ; and  then  if  he  and  his  company  were  back  again, 
he  would  bid  them  further  what  to  do ; but  if  not,  as  seemed 
likely,  then  Hall-face’s  band  to  go  west  toward  the  Shepherd 
country  half  a day’s  journey,  and  so  back,  and  Red-coat’s  east 
along  the  Dale’s  lip  again  for  the  like  time,  and  then  back,  so 
that  there  might  be  a constant  watch  and  ward  of  the  Dale  kept 
against  the  Felons. 

All  being  ordered  Gold-mane  led  his  own  company  north-east 
through  the  thick  wood,  thinking  that  he  might  so  fare  as  to 
come  nigh  to  Silver-dale,  or  at  least  to  hear  tidings  thereof.  This 
intent  he  told  to  Stone-face,  but  the  old  man  shook  his  head 
and  said  : 

‘ Good  is  this  if  it  may  be  done ; but  it  is  not  for  everyone 
to  go  down  to  Hell  in  his  lifetime  and  come  back  safe  with  a tale 
thereof.  However,  whither  thou  wilt  lead,  thither  will  I follow, 
though  assured  death  waylayeth  us.’ 

And  the  old  carle  was  joyous  and  proud  to  be  on  this  adven- 
ture, and  said,  that  it  was  good  indeed  that  his  foster-son  had  with 

191 


Stone-face  in 
the  Wood. 


Men  seeking 
through  the 
Wood. 


him  a man  well  stricken  in  years,  who  had  both  seen  many  things, 
and  learned  many,  and  had  good  rede  to  give  to  valiant  men. 

So  they  went  on  their  ways,  and  fared  very  warily  when  they 
were  gotten  beyond  those  parts  of  the  wood  which  they  knew 
well.  By  this  time  they  were  strung  out  in  a long  line ; and 
they  noted  their  road  carefully,  blazing  the  trees  on  either  side 
when  there  were  trees,  and  piling  up  little  stone-heaps  where  the 
trees  failed  them.  For  Stone-face  said  that  oft  it  befell  men  amidst 
the  thicket  and  the  waste  to  be  misled  by  wights  that  begrudged 
men  their  lives,  so  that  they  went  round  and  round  in  a ring  which 
they  might  not  depart  from  till  they  died  ; and  no  man  doubted 
his  word  herein. 

All  day  they  went,  and  met  no  foe,  nay,  no  man  at  all ; nought 
but  the  wild  things  of  the  wood  ; and  that  day  the  wood  changed 
little  about  them  from  mile  to  mile.  There  were  many  thickets 
across  their  road  which  they  had  to  go  round  about ; so  that  to 
the  crow  flying  over  the  tree-tops  the  journey  had  not  been  long 
to  the  place  where  night  came  upon  them,  and  where  they  had  to 
make  the  wood  their  bedchamber. 

That  night  they  lighted  no  fire,  but  ate  such  cold  victual  as 
they  might  carry  with  them ; nor  had  they  shot  any  venison, 
since  they  had  with  them  more  than  enough ; they  made  little 
noise  or  stir  therefore  and  fell  asleep  when  they  had  set  the  watch. 

On  the  morrow  they  arose  betimes,  and  broke  their  fast  and 
went  their  ways  till  noon  ; by  then  the  wood  had  thinned  some- 
what, and  there  was  little  underwood  betwixt  the  scrubby  oak 
and  ash  which  were  pretty  nigh  all  the  trees  about : the  ground 
also  was  broken,  and  here  and  there  rocky,  and  they  went  into 
and  out  of  rough  little  dales,  most  of  which  had  in  them  a brook 
of  water  running  west  and  south-west;  and  now  Face-of-god 
led  his  men  somewhat  more  easterly ; and  still  for  some  while 
they  met  no  man. 

At  last,  about  four  hours  after  noon,  when  they  were  going 
less  warily,  because  they  had  hitherto  come  across  nothing  to 

192 


hinder  them,  rising  over  the  brow  of  a somewhat  steep  ridge,  They  come 
they  saw  down  in  the  valley  below  them  a half  score  of  men  fo^* 

sitting  by  the  brook-side  eating  and  drinking,  theirweapons  lying 
beside  them,  and  along  with  them  stood  a woman  with  her  hands 
tied  behind  her  back. 

They  saw  at  once  that  these  men  were  of  the  Felons,  so  they 
that  had  their  bows  bent,  loosed  at  them  without  more  ado,  while 
the  others  ran  in  upon  them  with  sword  and  spear.  The  felons 
leapt  up  and  ran  scattering  down  the  dale,  such  of  them  as  were 
not  smitten  by  the  shafts;  but  he  who  was  nighest  to  the  woman, 
ere  he  ran,  turned  and  caught  up  a sword  from  the  ground  and 
thrust  it  through  her,  and  the  next  moment  fell  across  the  brook 
with  an  arrow  in  his  back. 

No  one  of  the  felons  was  nimble  enough  to  escape  from  the 
fleet-foot  hunters  of  Burgdale,  and  they  were  all  slain  there  to 
the  number  of  eleven. 

But  when  they  came  back  to  the  woman  to  tend  her,  she  breathed 
her  last  in  their  hands : she  was  a young  and  fair  woman,  black- 
haired and  dark-eyed.  She  had  on  her  body  a gown  of  rich  web, 
but  nought  else : she  had  been  bruised  and  sore  mishandled,  and 
the  Burgdale  carles  wept  for  pity  of  her,  and  for  wrath,  as  they 
straightened  her  limbs  on  the  turf  of  the  little  valley.  They  let 
her  lie  there  a little,  whilst  they  searched  round  about,  lest  there 
should  be  any  other  poor  soul  needing  their  help,  or  any  felon 
lurking  thereby ; but  they  found  nought  else  save  a bundle  wherein 
was  another  rich  gown  and  divers  woman’s  gear,  and  sundry  rings 
and  jewels,  and  therewithal  the  weapons  and  war-gear  of  a knight, 
delicately  wrought  after  the  Westland  fashion:  these  seemed  to 
them  to  betoken  other  foul  deeds  of  these  murder-carles.  So  when 
they  had  abided  a while,  they  laid  the  dead  woman  in  mould  by 
the  brook-side,  and  buried  with  her  the  other  woman’s  attire  and 
the  knight’s  gear,  all  but  his  sword  and  shield,  which  they  had 
away  with  them : then  they  cast  the  carcasses  of  the  felons  into  the 
brake,  but  brought  away  their  weapons  and  the  silver  rings  from 

193  C C 


A strange 
man. 


their  arms,  which  they  wore  like  all  the  others  of  them  whom  they 
had  fallen  in  with ; and  so  went  on  their  way  to  the  north-east, 
full  of  wrath  against  those  dastards  of  the  Earth. 

It  was  hard  on  sunset  when  they  left  the  valley  of  murder,  and 
they  went  no  long  way  thence  before  they  must  needs  make  stay 
for  the  night ; and  when  they  had  arrayed  their  sleeping-stead 
the  moon  was  up,  and  they  saw  that  before  them  lay  the  close 
wood  again,  for  they  had  made  their  lair  on  the  top  of  a little  ridge. 

There  then  they  lay,  and  nought  stirred  them  in  the  night,  and 
betimes  on  the  morrow  they  were  afoot,  and  entered  the  above- 
said  thicket,  wherein  two  of  them,  keen  hunters,  had  been  afore- 
time, but  had  not  gone  deep  into  it.  Through  this  wood  they 
went  all  day  toward  the  north-east,  and  met  nought  but  the  wild 
things  therein.  At  last,  when  it  was  near  sunset,  they  came  out 
of  the  thicket  into  a small  plain,  or  shallow  dale  rather,  with  no 
great  trees  in  it,  but  thorn-brakes  here  and  there  where  the  ground 
sank  into  hollows ; a little  river  ran  through  the  midst  of  it,  and 
winded  round  about  a height  whose  face  toward  the  river  went 
down  sheer  into  the  water,  but  away  from  it  sank  down  in  a long 
slope  to  where  the  thick  wood  began  again : and  this  height  or 
burg  looked  well-nigh  west. 

Thitherward  they  went ; but  as  they  were  drawing  nigh  to  the 
river,  and  were  on  the  top  of  a bent  above  a bushy  hollow  between 
them  and  the  water,  they  espied  a man  standing  in  the  river  near 
the  bank,  who  saw  them  not,  because  he  was  stooping  down  intent 
on  something  in  the  bank  or  under  it : so  they  gat  them  speedily 
down  into  the  hollow  without  noise,  that  they  might  get  some 
tidings  of  the  man. 

Then  Face-of-god  bade  his  men  abide  hidden  under  the  bushes 
and  stole  forward  quietly  up  the  further  bank  of  the  hollow,  his 
target  on  his  arm  and  his  spear  poised.  When  he  was  behind 
the  last  bush  on  the  top  of  the  bent  he  was  within  half  a spear- 
cast  of  the  water  and  the  man ; so  he  looked  on  him  and  saw 
that  he  was  quite  naked  except  for  a clout  about  his  middle. 

194 


Face-of-god  saw  at  once  that  he  was  not  one  of  the  Dusky  A runaway 
Men ; he  was  a black-haired  man,  but  white-skinned,  and  of  fair  thrall, 
stature,  though  not  so  tall  as  the  Burgdale  folk.  He  was  busied 
in  tickling  trouts,  and  just  as  Face-of-god  came  out  from  the  bush 
into  the  westering  sunlight,  he  threw  up  a fish  on  to  the  bank, 
and  looked  up  therewithal,  and  beheld  the  weaponed  man  glitter- 
ing, and  uttered  a cry,  but  fled  not  when  he  saw  the  spear  poised 
for  casting. 

Then  Face-of-god  spake  to  him  and  said : ‘ Come  hither. 
Woodsman ! we  will  not  harm  thee,  but  we  desire  speech  of  thee  : 
and  it  will  not  avail  thee  to  flee,  since  I have  bowmen  of  the  best 
in  the  hollow  yonder.’ 

The  man  put  forth  his  hands  towards  him  as  if  praying  him 
to  forbear  casting,  and  looked  at  him  hard,  and  then  came  drip- 
ping from  out  the  water,  and  seemed  not  greatly  afeard;  for  he 
stooped  down  and  picked  up  the  trouts  he  had  taken,  and  came 
towards  Face-of-god  stringing  the  last-caught  one  through  the 
gills  on  to  the  withy  whereon  were  the  others:  and  Face-of-god 
saw  that  he  was  a goodly  man  of  some  thirty  winters. 

Then  Face-of-god  looked  on  him  with  friendly  eyes  and  said: 

‘ Art  thou  a foemen  ? or  wilt  thou  be  helpful  to  us  ? ’ 

He  answered  in  the  speech  of  the  kindreds  with  the  hoarse 
voice  of  a much  weather-beaten  man  : 

‘Thou  seest,  lord,  that  I am  naked  and  unarmed.’ 

‘ Yet  mayst  thou  bewray  us,’  said  Face-of-god.  ‘ What  man 
art  thou  ? ’ 

Said  the  man:  ‘I  am  the  runaway  thrall  of  evil  men;  I have 
fled  from  Rose-dale  and  the  Dusky  Men.  Hast  thou  the  heart 
to  hurt  me  ? ’ 

‘We  are  the  foemen  of  the  Dusky  Men,’  said  Face-of-god; 

‘ wilt  thou  help  us  against  them  ? ’ 

The  man  knit  his  brows  and  said : ‘Yea,  if  ye  will  give  me 
your  word  not  to  suffer  me  to  fall  into  their  hands  alive.  But 
whence  art  thou,  to  be  so  bold  ? ’ 

195 


The  runaway  Said  Face-of-god  : ^We  are  of  Burgdale  ; and  I will  swear 
amongst  the  to  thee  on  the  edge  of  the  sword  that  thou  shalt  not  fall  alive  into 
Dalesmen.  hands  of  the  Dusky  Men.’ 

< Of  Burgdale  have  I heard,’  said  the  man ; ‘ and  in  sooth 
thou  seemest  not  such  a man  as  would  bewray  a hapless  man. 
But  now  had  I best  bring  you  to  some  lurking-place  where  ye 
shall  not  be  easily  found  of  these  devils,  who  now  oft-times  scour 
the  woods  hereabout.’ 

Said  Face-of-god  : ‘ Come  first  and  see  my  fellows  ; and  then 
if  thou  thinkest  we  have  need  to  hide,  it  is  well.’ 

So  the  man  went  side  by  side  with  him  towards  their  lair,  and 
as  they  went  Gold-mane  noted  marks  of  stripes  on  his  back  and 
sides,  and  said  : ‘ Sorely  hast  thou  been  mishandled,  poor  man  ! ’ 
Then  the  man  turned  on  him  and  said  somewhat  fiercely : 
^ Said  I not  that  I had  been  a thrall  of  the  Dusky  Men  ? how 
then  should  I have  escaped  tormenting  and  scourging,  if  I had 
been  with  them  for  but  three  days  ? ’ 

As  he  spake  they  came  about  a thorn-bush,  and  there  were  the 
Burgdale  men  down  in  the  hollow ; and  the  man  said  : ‘ Are 
these  thy  fellows  ? Call  to  mind  that  thou  hast  sworn  by  the 
edge  of  the  sword  not  to  hurt  me.’ 

‘ Poor  man  ! ’ said  Face-of-god  ; ‘ these  are  thy  friends,  unless 
thou  bewrayest  us.’ 

Then  he  cried  aloud  to  his  folk  : ‘ Here  is  now  a good  hap ! 
this  is  a runaway  thrall  of  the  Dusky  Men;  of  him  shall  we  hear 
tidings ; so  cherish  him  all  ye  may.’ 

So  the  carles  thronged  about  him  and  bestirred  themselves  to 
help  him,  and  one  gave  him  his  surcoat  for  a kirtle,  and  another 
cast  a cloak  about  him;  and  they  brought  him  meat  and  drink, 
such  as  they  had  ready  to  hand  : and  the  man  looked  as  if  he 
scarce  believed  in  all  this,  but  deemed  himself  to  be  in  a dream. 
But  presently  he  turned  to  Face-of-god  and  said  : 

‘ Now  I see  so  many  men  and  weapons  I deem  that  ye  have 
no  need  to  skulk  in  caves  to-night,  though  I know  of  good  ones : 

196 


yet  shall  ye  do  well  not  to  light  a fire  till  moon-setting ; for  the 
flame  ye  may  lightly  hide,  but  the  smoke  may  be  seen  from  far 
aloof’ 

But  they  bade  him  to  meat,  and  he  needed  no  second  bidding 
but  ate  lustily,  and  they  gave  him  wine,  and  he  drank  a great 
draught  and  sighed  as  for  joy.  Then  he  said  in  a trembling 
voice,  as  though  he  feared  a naysay : 

‘ If  ye  are  from  Burgdale  ye  shall  be  faring  back  again  pre- 
sently ; and  I pray  you  to  take  me  with  you 

Said  Face-of-god  : ^ Yea  surely,  friend,  that  will  we  do,  and 
rejoice  in  thee.’ 

Then  he  drank  another  cup  which  Warcliff  held  out  to  him, 
and  spake  again  : ‘Yet  if  ye  would  abide  here  till  about  noon 
to-morrow,  or  mayhappen  a little  later,  I would  bring  other  run^ 
aways  to  see  you ; and  them  also  might  ye  take  with  you  : ye 
may  think  when  ye  see  them  that  ye  shall  have  small  gain  of 
their  company ; for  poor  wretched  folk  they  be,  like  to  myself. 
Yet  since  ye  seek  for  tidings,  herein  might  they  do  you  more  ser- 
vice than  I ; for  amongst  them  are  some  who  came  out  of  the 
hapless  Dale  within  this  moon ; and  it  is  six  months  since  I 
escaped.  Moreover,  though  they  may  look  spent  and  outworn 
now,  yet  if  ye  give  them  a little  rest,  and  feed  them  well,  they 
shall  yet  do  many  a day’s  work  for  you  : and  I tell  you  that  if 
ye  take  them  for  thralls,  and  put  collars  on  their  necks,  and  use 
them  no  worse  than  a goodman  useth  his  oxen  and  his  asses, 
beating  them  not  save  when  they  are  idle  or  at  fault,  it  shall  be 
to  them  as  if  they  were  come  to  heaven  out  of  hell,  and  to  such 
goodhap  as  they  have  not  thought  of,  save  in  dreams,  for  many 
and  many  a day.  And  thus  I entreat  you  to  do  because  ye  seem 
to  me  to  be  happy  and  merciful  men,  who  will  not  begrudge  us 
this  happiness.’ 

The  carles  of  Burgdale  listened  eagerly  to  what  he  said,  and 
they  looked  at  him  with  great  eyes  and  marvelled ; and  their 
hearts  were  moved  with  pity  towards  him  ; and  Stone-face  said : 

197 


He  prayeth 
be  taken  to 
Burgdale 
with  other 
runaways. 


They  make  ‘ Herein,  O War-leader,  need  I give  thee  no  rede,  for  thou 
much  of  the  mayst  see  clearly  that  all  we  deem  that  we  should  lose  our  man- 
ranaway,  hood  and  become  the  dastards  of  the  Warrior  if  we  did  not  abide 
the  coming  of  these  poor  men,  and  take  them  back  to  the  Dale, 
and  cherish  them.’ 

‘Yea,’  said  Wolf  of  Whitegarth,  ‘and  great  thanks  we  owe 
to  this  man  that  he  biddeth  us  this  : for  great  will  be  the  gain  to 
us  if  we  become  so  like  the  Gods  that  we  may  deliver  the  poor 
from  misery.  Now  must  I needs  think  how  they  shall  wonder 
when  they  come  to  Burgdale  and  find  out  how  happy  it  is  to 
dwell  there.’ 

‘Surely,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘thus  shall  we  do,  whatever  cometh 
of  it.  But,  friend  of  the  wood,  as  to  thralls,  there  be  none  such 
in  the  Dale,  but  therein  are  all  men  friends  and  neighbours,  and 
even  so  shall  ye  be.’ 

And  he  fell  a-musing,  when  he  bethought  him  of  how  little  he 
had  known  of  sorrow. 

But  that  man,  when  he  beheld  the  happy  faces  of  the  Burg- 
dalers,  and  hearkened  to  their  friendly  voices,  and  understood 
what  they  said,  and  he  also  was  become  strong  with  the  meat 
and  drink,  he  bowed  his  head  adown  and  wept  a long  while ; 
and  they  meddled  not  with  him,  till  he  turned  again  to  them 
and  said : 

‘ Since  ye  are  in  arms,  and  seem  to  be  seeking  your  foemen,  I 
suppose  ye  wot  that  these  tyrants  and  man-quellers  will  fall  upon 
you  in  Burgdale  ere  the  summer  is  well  worn.’ 

‘So  much  we  deem  indeed,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘but  we  were 
fain  to  hear  the  certainty  of  it,  and  how  thou  knowest  thereof.’ 

Said  the  man : ‘ It  was  six  moons  ago  that  I fled,  as  I have 
told  you ; and  even  then  it  was  the  common  talk  amongst  our 
masters  that  there  were  fair  dales  to  the  south  which  they  would 
overrun.  Man  would  say  to  man  : We  were  over  many  in  Silver- 
dale,  and  we  needed  more  thralls,  because  those  we  had  were 
lessening,  and  especially  the  women ; now  are  we  more  at  ease 


in  Rose-dale,  though  we  have  sent  thralls  to  Silver-dale ; but  Supper  in 
yet  we  can  bear  no  more  men  from  thence  to  eat  up  our  stock  perilous 
from  us : let  them  fare  south  to  the  happy  dales,  and  conquer 
them,  and  we  will  go  with  them  and  help  therein,  whether  we 
come  back  to  Rose-dale  or  no.  Such  talk  did  I hear  then  with 
mine  own  ears  : but  some  of  those  whom  I shall  bring  to  you  to- 
morrow shall  know  better  what  is  doing,  since  they  have  fled 
from  Rose-dale  but  a few  days.  Moreover,  there  is  a man  and 
a woman  who  have  fled  from  Silver-dale  itself,  and  are  but  a 
month  from  it,  journeying  all  the  time  save  when  they  must 
needs  hide ; and  these  say  that  their  masters  have  got  to  know 
the  ways  to  Burgdale,  and  are  minded  for  it  before  the  winter, 
as  I said  ; and  nought  else  but  the  ways  thither  do  they  desire  to 
know,  since  they  have  no  fear.’ 

By  then  was  night  come,  and  though  the  moon  was  high  in 
heaven,  and  lighted  all  that  waste,  the  Burgdalers  must  needs 
light  a fire  for  cooking  their  meat,  whatsoever  that  woodsman 
might  say ; moreover,  the  night  was  cold  and  somewhat  frosty. 

A little  before  they  had  come  to  that  place  they  had  shot  a fat 
buck  and  some  smaller  deer,  but  of  other  meat  they  had  no  great 
store,  though  there  was  wine  enough.  So  they  lit  their  fire  in  the 
thickest  of  the  thorn-bush  to  hide  it  all  they  might,  and  thereat 
they  cooked  their  venison  and  the  trouts  which  the  runaway  had 
taken,  and  they  fell  to,  and  ate  and  drank  and  were  merry, 
making  much  of  that  poor  man  till  him-seemed  he  was  gotten 
into  the  company  of  the  kindest  of  the  Gods. 

But  when  they  were  full,  Face-of-god  spake  to  him,  and  asked 
him  his  name ; and  he  named  himself  Dallach ; but  said  he  : 

^ Lord,  this  is  according  to  the  naming  of  men  in  Rose-dale  before 
we  were  enthralled  : but  now  what  names  have  thralls  ? Also  I 
am  not  altogether  of  the  blood  of  them  of  Rose-dale,  but  of  better 
and  more  warrior- like  kin.’ 

Said  Face-of-god:  ^Thou  hast  named  Silver-dale;  knowest 
thou  it?’ 


199 


Dallach  tells 
his  tale. 


Dallach  answered  : *’  I have  never  seen  it.  It  is  far  hence ; in 
a week’s  journey,  making  all  diligence,  and  not  being  forced  to 
hide  and  skulk  like  those  runaways,  ye  shall  come  to  the  mouth 
thereof  lying  west,  where  its  rock-walls  fall  off  toward  the  plain.’ 

‘ But,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ is  there  no  other  way  into  that 
Dale?’ 

* Nay,  none  that  folk  wot  of,’  said  Dallach,  ‘ except  to  bold 
cragsmen  with  their  lives  in  their  hands.’ 

‘ Knowest  thou  aught  of  the  affairs  of  Silver-dale  ? ’ said 
Face-of-god. 

Said  Dallach  : ‘ Somewhat  I know  : we  wot  that  but  a few 
years  ago  there  was  a valiant  folk  dwelling  therein,  who  were 
lords  of  the  whole  dale,  and  that  they  were  vanquished  by  the 
Dusky  Men  : but  whether  they  were  all  slain  and  enthralled  we 
wot  not ; but  we  deem  it  otherwise.  As  for  me  it  is  of  their  blood 
that  I am  partly  come ; for  my  father’s  father  came  thence  to 
settle  in  Rose-dale,  and  wedded  a woman  of  the  Dale,  who  was 
my  father’s  mother.’ 

< When  was  it  that  ye  fell  under  the  Dusky  Men  ? ’ said 
Face-of-god. 

Said  Dallach  : * It  was  five  years  ago.  They  came  into  the 
Dale  a great  company,  all  in  arms.’ 

‘ Was  there  battle  betwixt  you  ? ’ said  Face-of-god. 

‘ Alas  ! not  so,’  said  Dallach.  ^ We  were  a happy  folk  there  ; 
but  soft  and  delicate  : for  the  Dale  is  exceeding  fertile,  and  beareth 
wealth  in  abundance,  both  corn  and  oil  and  wine  and  fruit,  and 
of  beasts  for  man’s  service  the  best  that  may  be.  Would  that 
there  had  been  battle,  and  that  I had  died  therein  with  those  that 
had  a heart  to  fight ; and  even  so  saith  now  every  man,  yea,  every 
woman  in  the  Dale.  But  it  was  not  so  when  the  elders  met  in 
our  Council-House  on  the  day  when  the  Dusky  Men  bade  us  pay 
them  tribute  and  give  them  houses  to  dwell  in  and  lands  to  liv^e 
by.  Then  had  we  weapons  in  our  hands,  but  no  hearts  to 
use  them.’ 


200 


* What  befell  then  ?’  said  the  goodman  of  Whitegarth. 

Said  Dallach  ; ‘Look  ye  to  it,  lords,  that  it  befall  not  in  Burg- 
dale  ! We  gave  them  all  they  asked  for,  and  deemed  we  had 
much  left.  What  befell,  sayst  thou  ? We  sat  quiet ; we  went 
about  our  work  in  fear  and  trembling,  for  grim  and  hideous  were 
they  to  look  on.  At  first  they  meddled  not  much  with  us,  save 
to  take  from  our  houses  what  they  would  of  meat  and  drink,  or 
raiment,  or  plenishing.  And  all  this  we  deemed  we  might  bear, 
and  that  we  needed  no  more  than  to  toil  a little  more  each  day  so 
as  to  win  somewhat  more  of  wealth.  But  soon  we  found  that  it 
would  not  be  so ; for  they  had  no  mind  to  till  the  teeming  earth 
or  work  in  the  acres  we  had  given  them,  or  to  sit  at  the  loom, 
or  hammer  in  the  stithy,  or  do  any  manlike  work  ; it  was  we  that 
must  do  all  that  for  their  behoof,  and  it  was  altogether  for  them 
that  we  laboured,  and  nought  for  ourselves  ; and  our  bodies  were 
only  so  much  our  own  as  they  were  needful  to  be  kept  alive  for 
labour.  Herein  were  our  tasks  harder  than  the  toil  of  any  mules 
or  asses,  save  for  the  younger  and  goodlier  of  the  women,  whom 
they  would  keep  fair  and  delicate  to  be  their  bed-thralls. 

‘ Yet  not  even  so  were  our  bodies  safe  from  their  malice  : for 
these  men  were  not  only  tyrants,  but  fools  and  madmen.  Let 
alone  that  there  were  few  days  without  stripes  and  torments  to 
satiate  their  fury  or  their  pleasure,  so  that  in  all  streets  and  nigh 
any  house  might  you  hear  wailing  and  screaming  and  groaning ; 
but  moreover,  though  a wise  man  would  not  willingly  slay  his  own 
thrall  any  more  than  his  own  horse  or  ox,  yet  did  these  men  so 
wax  in  folly  and  malice,  that  they  would  often  hew  at  man  or 
woman  as  they  met  them  in  the  way  from  mere  grimness  of  soul ; 
and  if  they  slew  them  it  was  well.  Thereof  indeed  came  quarrels 
enough  betwixt  master  and  master,  for  they  are  much  given  to 
man-slaying  amongst  themselves:  but  what  profit  to  us  thereof? 
Nay,  if  the  dead  man  were  a chieftain,  then  woe  betide  the  thralls ! 
for  thereof  must  many  an  one  be  slain  on  his  grave-mound  to  serve 
him  on  the  hell-road.  To  be  short : we  have  heard  of  men  who 

201  D D 


A thrall’s  tale 


Dallachfareth 
to  seek  his 
fellows. 


be  fierce,  and  men  who  be  grim ; but  these  we  may  scarce  believe 
to  be  men  at  all,  but  trolls  rather ; and  ill  will  it  be  if  their  race 
waxeth  in  the  world.’ 

The  Burgdale  men  hearkened  with  all  their  ears,  and  wondered 
that  such  things  could  befall;  and  they  rejoiced  at  the  work  that 
lay  before  them,  and  their  hearts  rose  high  at  the  thought  of  battle 
in  that  behalf,  and  the  fame  that  should  come  of  it.  As  for  the 
runaway,  they  made  so  much  of  him  that  the  man  marvelled ; for 
they  dealt  with  him  like  a woman  cherishing  a son,  and  knew  not 
how  to  be  kind  enough  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII.  THE  MEN  OF  BURGDALE  MEET  THE 
RUNAWAYS. 

NOW  ere  the  night  was  far  spent,  Dallach  arose  and  said : 
‘ Kind  folk,  ye  will  presently  be  sleeping  ; but  I bid  you 
keep  a good  watch,  and  if  ye  will  be  ruled  by  me,  ye  will 
kindle  no  fire  on  the  morrow,  for  the  smoke  riseth  thick  in  the 
morning  air,  and  is  as  a beacon.  As  for  me,  I shall  leave  you 
here  to  rest,  and  I myself  will  fare  on  mine  errand.’ 

They  bade  him  sleep  and  rest  him  after  so  many  toils  and  hard- 
ships, saying  that  they  were  not  tied  to  an  hour  to  be  back  in 
Burgdale  ; but  he  said : ‘ Nay,  the  moon  is  high,  and  it  is  as  good 
as  daylight  to  me,  who  could  find  my  way  even  by  starlight ; and 
your  tarrying  here  is  nowise  safe.  Moreover,  if  I could  find  those 
folk  and  bring  them  part  of  the  way  by  night  and  cloud  it  were 
well ; for  if  we  were  taken  again,  burning  quick  would  be  the  best 
death  by  which  we  should  die.  As  for  me,  now  am  I strong  with 
meat  and  drink  and  hope ; and  when  I come  to  Burgdale  there 
will  be  time  enough  for  resting  and  slumber.’ 

Said  Face-of"god  : ‘ Shall  I not  wend  with  thee  to  see  these 
people  and  the  lairs  wherein  they  hide  ? ’ 

The  man  smiled:  ‘Nay,  earl,’  said  he,  ‘that  shall  not  be. 

202 


£ 


For  wot  ye  what  ? If  they  were  to  see  me  in  company  of  a man- 
at-arms  they  would  deem  that  I was  bringing  the  foe  upon  them, 
and  would  flee,  or  mayhappen  would  fall  upon  us.  For  as  for 
me,  when  I saw  thee,  thou  wert  close  anigh  me,  so  I knew  thee  to 
be  no  Dusky  Man ; but  they  would  see  the  glitter  of  thine  arms 
from  afar,  and  to  them  all  weaponed  men  are  foemen.  Thou, 
lord,  knowest  not  the  heart  of  a thrall,  nor  the  fear  and  doubt  that 
is  in  it.  Nay,  I myself  must  cast  off  these  clothes  that  ye  have  given 
me,  and  fare  naked,  lest  they  mistrust  me.  Only  I will  take  a 
spear  in  my  hand,  and  sling  a knife  round  my  neck,  if  ye  will  give 
them  to  me  ; for  if  the  worst  happen,  I will  not  be  taken  alive.’ 

Therewith  he  cast  offhis  raiment,  and  they  gave  him  the  weapons 
and  wished  him  good  speed,  and  he  went  his  way  twixt  moonlight 
and  shadow ; but  the  Burgdalers  went  to  sleep  when  they  had  set 
a watch. 

Early  in  the  morning  they  awoke,  and  the  sun  was  shining 
and  the  thrushes  singing  in  the  thorn-brake,  and  all  seemed  fair 
and  peaceful,  and  a little  haze  still  hung  about  the  face  of  the 
burg  over  the  river.  So  they  went  down  to  the  water  and  washed 
the  night  from  off  them ; and  thence  the  most  part  of  them  went  back 
to  their  lair  among  the  thorn-bushes  : but  four  of  them  went  up 
the  dale  into  the  oak-wood  to  shoot  a buck,  and  five  more  they 
sent  out  to  watch  their  skirts  around  them  ; and  Face-of-god  with 
old  Stone-face  went  over  a ford  of  the  stream,  and  came  on  to 
the  lower  slope  of  the  burg,  and  so  went  up  it  to  the  top. 
Thence  they  looked  about  to  see  if  aught  were  stirring,  but  they 
saw  little  save  the  waste  and  the  wood,  which  on  the  north-east 
was  thick  of  big  trees  stretching  out  a long  way.  Their  own 
lair  was  clear  to  see  over  its  bank  and  the  bushes  thereof,  and 
that  misliked  Face-of-god,  lest  any  foe  should  climb  the  burg 
that  day.  The  morning  was  clear,  and  Face-of-god  looking 
north-and-by-west  deemed  he  saw  smoke  rising  into  the  air  over 
the  tree-covered  ridges  that  hid  the  further  distance  toward  that 
airt,  though  further  east  uphove  the  black  shoulders  of  the  Great 

203 


Face-of-god 
and  Stone - 
face  go  up 
that  Burg. 


The  elves  that 
love  the  van- 
quished wane 
with  them. 


Waste  and  the  snowy  peaks  behind  them.  The  said  smoke  was 
not  such  as  cometh  from  one  great  fire,  but  was  like  a thin  veil 
staining  the  pale  blue  sky,  as  when  men  are  burning  ling  on  the 
heath-side  and  it  is  seen  aloof. 

He  showed  that  smoke  to  Stone-face,  who  smiled  and  said  : 
‘ Now  will  they  be  lighting  the  cooking  fires  in  Rose-dale  : would 
I were  there  with  a few  hundreds  of  axes  and  staves  at  my  back ! ’ 

‘ Yea,’  said  Face-of-god,  smiling  in  his  face,  ‘ but  where  I pray 
thee  are  these  elves  and  wood-wights,  that  we  meet  them  not  ? 
Grim  things  there  are  in  the  woods,  and  things  fair  enough  also  ; 
but  meseemeth  that  the  trolls  and  the  elves  of  thy  young  years 
have  been  frighted  away.’ 

Said  Stone-face  : ‘ Maybe,  foster-son  ; that  hath  been  seen  ere 
now,  that  when  one  race  of  man  overrunneth  the  land  inhabited 
by  another,  the  wights  and  elves  that  love  the  vanquished  are 
seen  no  more,  or  get  them  away  far  off  into  the  outermost  wilds, 
where  few  men  ever  come.’ 

‘Yea,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘that  may  well  be.  But  deemest 
thou  by  that  token  that  we  shall  be  vanquished  ? ’ 

‘ As  for  us,  I know  not,’  said  Stone-face  ; ‘ but  thy  friends  of 
Shadowy  Vale  have  been  vanquished.  Moreover,  concerning 
these  felons  whom  now  we  are  hunting,  are  we  all  so  sure  that  they 
be  men?  Certain  it  is,  that  when  I go  into  battle  with  them, 
I shall  smite  with  no  more  pity  than  my  sword,  as  if  I were 
smiting  things  that  may  not  feel  the  woes  of  man.’ 

Said  Face-of-god  : ‘Yea,  even  so  shall  it  be  with  me.  But 
what  thinkest  thou  of  these  runaways  ? Shall  we  have  tidings  of 
them,  or  shall  Dallach  bring  the  foe  upon  us  ? It  was  for  the  sake 
of  that  question  that  I have  clomb  the  burg  : and  that  we  might 
watch  the  land  about  us.’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  Stone-face,  ‘ I have  seen  many  men,  and  I deem  of 
Dallach  that  he  is  a true  man.  I deem  we  shall  soon  have  tidings 
of  his  fellows ; and  they  may  have  seen  the  elves  and  wood-wights : 
I would  fain  ask  them  thereof,  and  am  eager  to  see  them.’ 

204. 


Said  Face-of-god  : ‘ And  I somewhat  dread  to  see  them,  and 
their  rags  and  their  misery  and  the  weals  of  their  stripes.  It  irked 
me  to  see  Dalla\:h  when  he  first  fell  to  his  meat  last  night,  how 
he  ate  like  a dog  for  fear  and  famine.  How  shall  it  be,  moreover, 
when  we  have  them  in  the  Dale,  and  they  fall  to  the  deed  of 
kind  there,  as  they  needs  must.  Will  they  not  bear  us  evil  and 
thrall-like  men  ? ’ 

‘ Maybe,’  said  Stone-face,  ‘ and  maybe  not ; for  they  have 
been  thralls  but  for  a little  while : and  I deem  that  in  no  long  time 
shall  ye  see  them  much  bettered  by  plenteous  meat  and  rest.  And 
after  all  is  said,  this  Dallach  bore  him  like  a valiant  man;  also  it  was 
valiant  of  him  to  flee  ; and  of  the  others  may  ye  say  the  like.  But 
look  you  ! there  are  men  going  down  yonder  towards  our  lair  : 
belike  those  shall  be  our  guests,  and  there  be  no  Dusky  Men 
amongst  them.  Come,  let  us  home  ! ’ 

So  Face-of-god  looked  and  beheld  from  the  height  of  the  burg 
shapes  of  men  grey  and  colourless  creeping  toward  the  lair  from 
sunshine  to  shadow,  like  wild  creatures  shy  and  fearful  of  the 
hunter,  or  so  he  deemed  of  them. 

So  he  turned  away,  angry  and  sad  of  heart,  and  the  twain  went 
down  the  burg  and  across  the  water  to  their  camp,  having  seen 
little  to  tell  of  from  the  height. 

When  they  came  to  their  campment  there  were  their  folk  stand- 
ing in  a ring  round  about  Dallach  and  the  other  runaways.  Thej’^ 
made  way  for  the  War-leader  and  Stone-face,  who  came  amongst 
them  and  beheld  the  Runaways,  that  they  were  many  more  than  they 
looked  to  see ; for  they  were  of  carles  one  score  and  three,  and 
of  women  eighteen,  all  told  save  Dallach.  When  they  saw  those 
twain  come  through  the  ring  of  men  and  perceived  that  they  were 
chieftains,  some  of  them  fell  down  on  their  knees  before  them  and 
held  out  their  joined  hands  to  them,  and  kissed  the  Burgdalers’ 
feet  and  the  hems  of  their  garments,  while  the  tears  streamed  out 
of  their  eyes  : some  stood  moving  little  and  staring  before  them 
stupidly  : and  some  kept  glancing  from  face  to  face  of  the  well- 

205 


They  see  the 
new-comers 
from  the 
Burg. 


Tokens  of 

heavy 

thralldom. 


liking  happy  Burgdale  carles,  though  for  a while  even  their  faces 
were  sad  and  downcast  at  the  sight  of  the  poor  men  : some  also 
kept  murmuring  one  or  two  words  in  their  country  tongue,  and 
Dallach  told  Face-of-god  that  these  were  crying  out  for  victual. 

It  must  be  said  of  these  poor  folk  that  they  were  of  divers  con- 
ditions, and  chiefly  of  three  : and  first  there  were  seven  of  Rose- 
dale  and  five  of  Silver-dale  late  come  to  the  wood  (of  these  Silver- 
dalers  Dallach  had  told  but  of  two,  for  the  other  three  were 
but  just  come).  Of  these  twelve  were  seven  women,  and  all,  save 
two  of  the  women,  were  clad  in  one  scanty  kirtle  or  shirt  only ; 
for  such  was  the  wont  of  the  Dusky  Men  with  their  thralls.  They 
had  brought  away  weapons,  and  had  amongst  them  six  axes  and 
a spear,  and  a sword,  and  five  knives,  and  one  man  had  a shield. 

Yet  though  these  were  clad  and  armed,  yet  in  some  wise  were 
they  the  worst  of  all ; they  were  so  timorous  and  cringing,  and 
most  of  them  heavy-eyed  and  sullen  and  down-looking.  Many 
of  them  had  been  grievously  mishandled  : one  man  had  had  his 
left  hand  smitten  off ; another  was  docked  of  three  of  his  toes, 
and  the  gristle  of  his  nose  slit  up ; one  was  halt,  and  four  had 
been  ear-cropped,  nor  did  any  lack  weals  of  whipping.  Of  the 
Silver-dale  new-comers  the  three  men  were  the  worst  of  all 
the  Runaways,  with  wild  wandering  eyes,  but  sullen  also,  and 
cringing  if  any  drew  nigh,  and  would  not  look  anyone  in  the 
face,  save  presently  Face-of-god,  on  whom  they  were  soon  fond 
to  fawn,  as  a dog  on  his  master.  But  the  women  who  were 
with  them,  and  who  were  well-nigh  as  timorous  as  the  men,  were 
those  two  gaily-clad  ones,  and  they  were  soft-handed  and  white- 
skinned, save  for  the  last  days  of  weather  in  the  wood ; for  they 
had  been  bed-thralls  of  the  Dusky  Men. 

Such  were  the  new-comers  to  the  wood.  But  others  had  been, 
like  Dallach,  months  therein ; it  may  be  said  that  there  were 
eighteen  of  these,  carles  and  queens  together.  Little  raiment 
they  had  amongst  them,  and  some  were  all  but  stark  naked,  so 
that  on  these  mi^ht  well  be  seen  as  on  Dallach  the  marks  of  old 

206 


stripes,  and  of  these  also  were  there  men  who  had  been  shorn  of  The  best  of 
some  member  or  other,  and  they  were  all  burnt  and  blackened  the  Run- 
by  the  weather  of  the  woodland ; yet  for  all  their  nakedness, 
they  bore  themselves  bolder  and  more  manlike  than  the  later 
comers,  nor  did  they  altogether  lack  weapons  taken  from  their 
foemen,  and  most  of  them  had  some  edge-tool  or  another.  Of 
these  folk  were  four  from  Silver-dale,  though  Dallachknew  it  not. 

Besides  these  were  a half  score  and  one  who  had  been  years 
in  the  wood  instead  of  months  ; weather-beaten  indeed  were  these, 
shaggy  and  rough-skinned  like  wild  men  of  kind.  Some  of  them 
had  made  themselves  skin  breeches  or  clouts,  some  went  stark 
naked ; of  weapons  of  the  Dale  had  they  few,  but  they  bore 
bows  of  hazel  or  wych-elm  strung  with  deer-gut,  and  shafts 
headed  with  flint  stones ; staves  also  of  the  same  fashion,  and 
great  clubs  of  oak  or  holly  : some  of  them  also  had  made  them 
targets  of  skin  and  willow-twigs,  for  these  were  the  warriors  of 
the  Runaways  : they  had  a few  steel  knives  amongst  them,  but 
had  mostly  learned  the  craft  of  using  sharp  flints  for  knives  : but 
four  of  these  were  women. 

Three  of  these  men  were  of  the  kindreds  of  the  Wolf  from 
Silver-dale,  and  had  been  in  the  wood  for  hard  upon  ten  years, 
and  wild  as  they  were,  and  without  hope  of  meeting  their  fellows 
again,  they  went  proudly  and  boldly  amongst  the  others,  over- 
topping them  by  the  head  and  more.  For  the  greater  part  of 
these  men  were  somewhat  short  of  stature,  though  by  nature 
strong  and  stout  of  body. 

It  must  be  told  that  though  Dallach  had  thus  gotten  all  these 
many  Runaways  together,  yet  had  they  not  been  dwelling 
together  as  one  folk ; for  they  durst  not,  lest  the  Dusky  Men 
should  hear  thereof  and  fall  upon  them,  but  they  had  kept 
themselves  as  best  they  could  in  caves  and  in  brakes  three  to- 
gether or  two,  or  even  faring  alone  as  Dallach  did : only  as  he 
was  a strong  and  stout-hearted  man,  he  went  to  and  fro  and 
wandered  about  more  than  the  others,  so  that  he  foregathered 

207 


The  Run- 
aways feasted 
in  the  wood- 
land. 


with  most  of  them  and  knew  them.  He  said  also  that  he  doubted 
not  but  that  there  were  more  Runaways  in  the  wood,  but  these 
were  all  he  could  come  at.  Divers  who  had  fled  had  died  from 
time  to  time,  and  some  had  been  caught  and  cruelly  slain  by  their 
masters.  They  were  none  of  them  old ; the  oldest,  said  Dallach, 
scant  of  forty  winters,  though  many  from  their  aspect  might  have 
been  old  enough. 

So  Face-of-god  looked  and  beheld  all  these  poor  people ; and 
said  to  himself,  that  he  might  well  have  dreaded  that  sight.  For 
here  was  he  brought  face  to  face  with  the  Sorrow  of  the  Earth, 
whereof  he  had  known  nought  heretofore,  save  it  might  be  as  a 
tale  in  a minstrel’s  song.  And  when  he  thought  of  the  minutes 
that  had  made  the  hours,  and  the  hours  that  had  made  the  days 
that  these  men  had  passed  through,  his  heart  failed  him,  and  he 
was  dumb  and  might  not  speak,  though  he  perceived  that  the 
men  of  Burgdale  looked  for  speech  from  him ; but  he  waved 
his  hand  to  his  folk,  and  they  understood  him,  for  they  had 
heard  Dallach  say  that  some  of  them  were  crying  for  victual. 
So  they  set  to  work  and  dighted  for  them  such  meat  as  they  had, 
and  they  set  them  down  on  the  grass  and  made  themselves  their 
carvers  and  serving-men,  and  bade  them  eat  what  they  would  of 
such  as  there  was.  Yet,  indeed,  it  grieved  the  Burgdalers  again  to 
note  how  these  folk  were  driven  to  eat ; for  they  themselves,  though 
they  were  merry  folk,  were  exceeding  courteous  at  table,  and  of 
great  observance  of  manners  : whereas  these  poor  Runaways  ate, 
some  of  them  like  hungry  dogs,  and  some  hiding  their  meat  as  if 
they  feared  it  should  be  taken  from  them,  and  some  cowering  over 
it  like  falcons,  and  scarce  any  with  a manlike  pleasure  in  their 
meal.  And,  their  eating  over,  the  more  part  of  them  sat  dull  and 
mopish,  and  as  if  all  things  were  forgotten  for  the  time  present. 

Albeit  presently  Dallach  bestirred  him  and  said  to  Face-of- 
god  : ‘ Lord  of  the  Earl- folk,  if  I might  give  thee  rede,  it  were 
best  to  turn  your  faces  to  Burgdale  without  more  tarrying.  For 
we  are  over-nigh  to  Rose-dale,  being  but  thus  many  in  com- 

208 


pany.  But  when  we  come  to  our  next  resting-place,  then  shall  I They  turn 
bring  thee  to  speech  with  the  last-comers  from  Silver-dale ; for  about  to 
there  they  talk  with  the  tongue  of  the  kindreds  ; but  we  of  Rose- 
dale  for  the  more  part  talk  otherwise ; though  in  my  house  it 
came  down  from  father  to  son.’ 

^ Yea,’  said  Face-of-god,  gazing  still  on  that  unhappy  folk, 
as  they  sat  or  lay  upon  the  grass  at  rest  for  a little  while  : but 
him-seemed  as  he  gazed  that  some  memories  of  past  time  stirred 
in  some  of  them ; for  some,  they  hung  their  heads  and  the  tears 
stole  out  of  their  eyes  and  rolled  down  their  cheeks.  But  those 
older  Runaways  of  Silver-dale  were  not  crouched  down  like 
most  of  the  others,  but  strode  up  and  down  like  beasts  in  a den  ; 
yet  were  the  tears  on  the  face  of  one  of  these.  Then  Face-of- 
god  constrained  himself,  and  spake  to  the  folk,  and  said  : ‘We 
are  now  over-nigh  to  our  foes  of  Rose-dale  to  lie  here  any  longer, 
being  too  few  to  fall  upon  them.  We  will  come  hither  again 
with  a host  when  we  have  duly  questioned  these  men  who  have 
sought  refuge  with  us  : and  let  us  call  yonder  height  the  Burg 
of  the  Runaways,  and  it  shall  be  a landmark  for  us  when  we 
are  on  the  road  to  Rose-dale.’ 

Then  the  Burgdalers  bade  the  Runaways  courteously  and 
kindly  to  arise  and  take  the  road  with  them ; and  by  that  time 
were  their  men  all  come  in ; and  four  of  them  had  venison  with 
them,  which  was  needful,  if  they  were  to  eat  that  night  or  the 
morrow,  as  the  guests  had  eaten  them  to  the  bone. 

So  they  tarried  no  more,  but  set  out  on  the  homeward  way  ; 
and  Face-of-god  bade  Dallach  walk  beside  him,  and  asked  him 
much  concerning  Rose-dale  and  its  Dusky  Men.  Dallach  told 
him  that  these  were  not  so  many  as  they  were  masterful,  not  being 
above  eight  hundreds  of  men,  all  fighting-men.  As  to  women, 
they  had  none  of  their  own  race,  but  lay  with  the  Daleswomen  at 
their  will,  and  begat  children  of  them  ; and  all  or  most  of  the  said 
children  favoured  the  race  of  their  begetters.  Of  the  men-children 
they  reared  most,  but  the  women-children  they  slew  at  once  ; for 

209  E E 


Dallach  tells  they  valued  not  women  of  their  own  blood  : but  besides  the  women 
of  the  griefs  of  the  Dale,  they  would  go  at  whiles  in  bands  to  the  edges  of  the 
of  Rose-dale.  Plain  and  beguile  wayfarers,  and  bring  back  with  them  thence 
women  to  be  their  bed-thralls ; albeit  some  of  these  were  bought 
with  a price  from  the  Westland  men. 

As  to  the  number  of  the  folk  of  Rose-dale,  its  own  folk,  he 
said  they  would  number  some  five  thousand  souls,  one  with 
another ; of  whom  some  thousand  might  be  fit  to  bear  arms  if 
they  had  the  heart  thereto,  as  they  had  none.  Yet  being  closely 
questioned,  he  deemed  that  they  might  fall  on  their  masters  from 
behind,  if  battle  were  joined. 

He  said  that  the  folk  of  Rose-dale  had  been  a goodly  folk 
before  they  were  enthralled,  and  peaceable  with  one  another, 
but  that  now  it  was  a sport  of  the  Dusky  Men  to  set  a match  be- 
tween their  thralls  to  fight  it  out  with  sword  and  buckler  or  other- 
wise ; and  the  vanquished  man,  if  he  were  not  sore  hurt,  they 
would  scourge,  or  shear  some  member  from  him,  or  even  slay 
him  outright,  if  the  match  between  the  owners  were  so  made. 
And  many  other  sad  and  grievous  tales  he  told  to  Face-of- 
god,  more  than  need  be  told  again  ; so  that  the  War-leader  went 
along  sorry  and  angry,  with  his  teeth  set,  and  his  hand  on  the 
sword-hilt. 

Thus  they  went  till  night  fell  on  them,  and  they  could  scarce 
see  the  signs  they  had  made  on  their  outward  journey.  Then 
they  made  stay  in  a little  valley,  having  set  a watch  duly ; and 
since  they  were  by  this  time  far  from  Rose-dale,  and  were  a great 
company  as  regarded  scattered  bands  of  the  foe,  they  lighted  their 
fires  and  cooked  their  venison,  and  made  good  cheer  to  the  Run- 
aways, and  so  went  to  sleep  in  the  wild- wood. 

When  morning  was  come  they  gat  them  at  once  to  the  road ; 
and  if  the  Burgdalers  were  eager  to  be  out  of  the  wood,  their 
eagerness  was  as  nought  to  the  eagerness  of  the  Runaways,  most 
of  whom  could  not  be  easy  now,  and  deemed  every  minute  lost 
unless  they  were  wending  on  to  the  Dale ; so  that  this  day  they 

210 


were  willing  to  get  over  the  more  ground,  whereas  they  had  not 
set  out  on  their  road  till  afternoon  yesterday. 

Howsoever,  they  rested  at  noontide,and  Face-of-god  bade  Dal- 
lach  bring  him  to  speech  with  others  of  the  Runaways,  and  first 
that  he  might  talk  with  those  three  men  of  the  kindreds  who  had 
fled  from  Silver-dale  in  early  days.  So  Dallach  brought  them  to 
him ; but  he  found  that  though  they  spake  the  tongue,  they  were 
so  few-spoken  from  wildness  and  loneliness,  at  least  at  first,  that 
nought  could  come  from  them  that  was  not  dragged  from  them. 

These  men  said  that  they  had  been  in  the  wood  more  than  nine 
years,  so  that  they  knew  but  little  of  the  conditions  of  the  Dale 
in  that  present  day.  However,  as  to  what  Dallach  had  said  con- 
cerning the  Dusky  Men,  they  strengthened  his  words  ; and  they 
said  that  the  Dusky  Men  took  no  delight  save  in  beholding  tor- 
ments and  misery,  and  that  they  doubted  if  they  were  men  or  trolls. 
They  said  that  since  they  had  dwelt  in  the  wood  they  had  slain 
not  a few  of  the  foemen,  waylaying  them  as  occasion  served,  but 
that  in  this  warfare  they  had  lost  two  of  their  fellows.  When 
Face-of-god  asked  them  of  their  deeming  of  the  numbers  of  the 
Dusky  Men,  they  said  that  before  those  bands  had  broken  into 
Rose-dale,  they  counted  them,  as  far  as  they  could  call  to  mind, 
at  about  three  thousand  men,  all  warriors ; and  that  somewhat 
less  than  one  thousand  had  gone  up  into  Rose-dale,  and  some  had 
died,  and  many  had  been  cast  away  in  the  wild-wood,  their 
fellows  knew  not  how.  Yet  had  not  their  numbers  in  Silver-dale 
diminished  ; because  two  years  after  they  (the  speakers)  had  fied, 
came  three  more  Dusky  Companies  or  T ribes  into  Silver-dale,  and 
each  of  these  tribes  was  of  three  long  hundreds  ; and  with  their 
coming  had  the  cruelty  and  misery  much  increased  in  the  Dale, 
so  that  the  thralls  began  to  die  fast ; and  that  drave  the  Dusky 
Men  beyond  the  borders  of  Silver-dale,  so  that  they  fell  upon 
Rose-dale.  When  asked  how  many  of  the  kindreds  might  yet 
be  abiding  in  Silver-dale,  their  faces  clouded,  and  they  seemed 
exceeding  wroth,  and  answered,  that  they  would  willingly  hope 

2II 


Three  run- 
aways of  the 
kindreds. 


Afairwoman.  that  most  of  those  that  had  not  been  slain  at  the  time  of  the  over- 
throw were  now  dead,  yet  indeed  they  feared  there  were  yet  some 
alive,  and  mayhappen  not  a few  women. 

By  then  must  they  get  on  foot  again,  and  so  the  talk  fell  be- 
tween them  ; but  when  they  made  stay  for  the  night,  after  they 
had  done  their  meat,  Face-of-god  prayed  Dallach  bring  to  him 
some  of  the  latest-come  folk  from  Silver-dale,  and  he  brought  to 
him  the  man  and  the  woman  who  had  been  in  the  Dale  within  that 
moon.  As  to  the  man,  if  those  of  the  Earl-folk  had  been  few- 
spoken  from  fierceness  and  wildness,  he  was  no  less  so  from  mere 
dulness  and  weariness  of  misery  ; but  the  woman’s  tongue  went 
glibly  enough,  and  it  seemed  to  pleasure  her  to  talk  about  her 
past  miseries.  As  aforesaid,  she  was  better  clad  than  most  of 
those  of  Rose-dale,  and  indeed  might  be  called  gaily  clad,  and 
where  her  raiment  was  befouled  or  rent,  it  was  from  the  roughness 
of  the  wood  and  its  weather,  and  not  from  the  thralldom.  She  was 
a young  and  fair  woman,  black-haired  and  grey-eyed.  She  had 
washed  herself  that  day  in  a woodland  stream  which  they  had 
crossed  on  the  road,  and  had  arrayed  her  garments  as  trimly  as  she 
might,  and  had  plucked  some  fumitor^’^,  wherewith  she  had  made 
a garland  for  her  head.  She  sat  down  on  the  grass  in  front  of 
Face-of-god,  while  the  man  her  mate  stood  leaning  against  a tree 
and  looked  on  her  greedily.  The  Burgdale  carles  drew  near  to 
her  to  hearken  her  story,  and  looked  kindly  on  the  twain.  She 
smiled  on  them,  but  especially  on  Face-of-god,  and  said  : 

‘ Thou  hast  sent  for  me,  lord,  and  I wot  well  thou  wouldst 
hear  my  tale  shortly,  for  it  would  be  long  to  tell  if  I were  to  tell 
it  fully,  and  bring  into  it  all  that  I have  endured,  which  has  been 
bitter  enough,  for  all  that  ye  see  me  smooth  of  skin  and  well- 
liking of  body.  I have  been  the  bed-thrall  of  one  of  the  chief- 
tains of  the  Dusky  Men,  at  whose  house  many  of  their  great  men 
would  assemble,  so  that  ye  may  ask  me  whatso  ye  will ; as  I have 
heard  much  talk  and  may  call  it  to  mind.  Now  if  ye  ask  me 
whether  I have  fled  because  of  the  shame  that  I,  a free  woman 

212 


come  of  free  folk,  should  be  a mere  thrall  in  the  bed  of  the  foes  of  How  she  fled, 
my  kin,  and  with  no  price  paid  for  me,  I must  needs  say  it  is  not 
so ; since  over  long  have  we  of  the  Dale  been  thralls  to  be  ashamed 
of  such  a matter.  And  again,  if  ye  deem  that  I have  fled  because 
I have  been  burdened  with  grievous  toil  and  been  driven  thereto 
by  the  whip,  ye  may  look  on  my  hands  and  my  body  and  ye  will 
see  that  I have  toiled  little  therewith  : nor  again  did  I flee  be- 
cause I could  not  endure  a few  stripes  now  and  again  ; for  such 
usage  do  thralls  look  for,  even  when  they  are  delicately  kept  for 
the  sake  of  the  fairness  of  their  bodies,  and  this  they  may  well 
endure  ; yea  also,  and  the  mere  fear  of  death  by  torment  now  and 
again.  But  before  me  lay  death  both  assured  and  horrible  ; so  I 
took  mine  own  counsel,  and  told  none  for  fear  of  bewray al,  save  him 
who  guarded  me  ; and  that  was  this  man  ; who  fled  not  from  fear, 
but  from  love  of  me,  and  to  him  I have  given  all  that  I might 
give.  So  we  got  out  of  the  house  and  down  the  Dale  by  night 
and  cloud,  and  hid  for  one  whole  day  in  the  Dale  itself,  where  I 
trembled  and  feared,  so  that  I deemed  I should  die  of  fear ; but  this 
man  was  well  pleased  with  my  company,  and  with  the  lack  of  toil 
and  beating  even  for  the  day.  And  in  the  night  again  we  fled  and 
reached  the  wild-wood  before  dawn,  and  well-nigh  fell  into  the 
hands  of  those  who  were  hunting  us,  and  had  outgone  us  the  day 
before,  as  we  lay  hid.  Well,  what  is  to  say  ? They  saw  us  not, 
else  had  we  not  been  here,  but  scattered  piece-meal  over  the  land. 

This  carle  knew  the  passes  of  the  wood,  because  he  had  followed 
his  master  therein,  who  was  a great  hunter  in  the  wastes,  con- 
trary to  the  wont  of  these  men,  and  he  had  lain  a night  on  the 
burg  yonder ; therefore  he  brought  me  thither,  because  he  knew 
that  thereabout  was  plenty  of  prey  easy  to  take,  and  he  had  a 
bow  with  him  ; and  there  we  fell  in  with  others  of  our  folk  who 
had  fled  before,  and  with  Dallach  ; who  e’en  now  told  us  what 
was  hard  to  believe,  that  there  was  a fair  young  man  like  one  of 
the  Gods  leading  a band  of  goodly  warriors,  and  seeking  for  us 
to  bring  us  into  a peaceful  and  happy  land  ; and  this  man  would 

213 


A threat  of  a not  have  gone  with  him  because  he  feared  that  he  might  fall  into 
Dusky  Lord,  thralldom  of  other  folk,  who  would  take  me  away  from  him  ; but 
for  me,  I said  I would  go  in  any  case,  for  I was  weary  of  the  wood 
and  its  roughness  and  toil,  and  that  if  I had  a new  master  he 
would  scarcely  be  worse  than  my  old  one  was  at  his  best,  and  him  I 
could  endure.  So  I went,  and  glad  and  glad  I am,  whatever  ye  will 
do  with  me.  And  now  will  I answer  whatso  ye  may  ask  of  me/ 
She  laid  her  limbs  together  daintily  and  looked  fondly  on  Face- 
of-god,  and  the  carle  scowled  at  her  somewhat  at  first,  but 
presently,  as  he  watched  her,  his  face  smoothed  itself  out  of  its 
wrinkles. 

But  Face-of-god  pondered  a little  while,  and  then  asked  the 
woman  if  she  had  heard  any  words  to  remember  of  late  days  con- 
cerning the  affairs  of  the  Dusky  Men  and  their  intent ; and  he  said : 
‘ I pray  thee,  sister,  be  truthful  in  thine  answer,  for  somewhat 
lieth  on  it.’ 

She  said : ‘ How  could  I speak  aught  but  the  sooth  to  thee,  O 
lovely  lord  ? The  last  word  spoken  hereof  I mind  me  well : for 
my  master  had  been  mishandling  me,  and  I was  sullen  to  him  after 
the  smart,  and  he  mocked  and  jeered  me,  and  said  : Ye  women 
deem  we  cannot  do  without  you,  but  ye  are  fools,  and  know 
nothing  ; we  are  going  to  conquer  a new  land  where  the  women 
are  plenty,  and  far  fairer  than  ye  be ; and  we  shall  leave  you  to 
fare  afield  like  the  other  thralls,  or  work  in  the  digging  of  silver ; 
and  belike  ye  wot  what  that  meaneth.  Also  he  said  that  they 
would  leave  us  to  the  new  tribe  of  their  folk,  far  wilder  than  they, 
whom  they  looked  for  in  the  Dale  in  about  a moon’s  wearing;  so 
that  they  needs  must  seek  to  other  lands.  Also  this  same  talk 
would  we  hear  whenever  it  pleased  any  of  them  to  mock  us  their 
bed-thralls.  Now,  my  sweet  lord,  this  is  nought  but  the  very 
sooth.’ 

Again  spake  Face-of-god  after  a while: 

‘ Tell  me,  sister,  hast  thou  heard  of  any  of  the  Dusky  Men  be- 
ing slain  in  the  wood  ? ’ 


214 


‘Yea,’  she  said,  and  turned  pale  therewith  and  caught  her 
breath  as  one  choking  ; but  said  in  a little  while  : 

‘ This  alone  was  it  hard  for  me  to  tell  thee  amongst  all  the 
griefs  I have  borne,  whereof  I might  have  told  thee  many  tales, 
and  will  do  one  day  if  thou  wilt  suffer  it;  but  fear  makes  this 
hard  for  me.  For  in  very  sooth  this  was  the  cause  of  my  fleeing, 
that  my  master  was  brought  in  slain  by  an  arrow  in  the  wood ; 
and  he  was  to  be  borne  to  bale  and  burned  in  three  days’  wearing  ; 
and  we  three  bed-thralls  of  his,  and  three  of  the  best  of  the  men- 
thralls,  were  to  beburned  quick  on  his  bale-fire  after  sore  torments ; 
therefore  I fled,  and  hid  a knife  in  my  bosom,  that  I might  not 
be  taken  alive ; but  sweet  was  life  to  me,  and  belike  I should  not 
have  smitten  myself.’ 

And  she  wept  sore  for  pity  of  herself  before  them  all.  But 
Face-of-god  said  ; 

‘ Knowest  thou,  sister,  by  whom  the  man  was  slain  ? ’ 

‘ Nay,’  she  said,  still  sobbing  ; ‘but  I heard  nought  thereof,  nor 
had  I noted  it  in  my  terror.  The  death  of  others,  who  were  slain 
before  him,  and  the  loss  of  many,  we  knew  not  how,  made  them 
more  bitterly  cruel  with  us.’ 

And  again  was  she  weeping ; but  Face-of-god  said  kindly  to 
her  : ‘ Weep  no  more,  sister,  for  now  shall  all  thy  troubles  be 
over  : I feel  in  my  heart  that  we  shall  overcome  these  felons,  and 
make  an  end  of  them,  and  there  then  is  Burgdale  for  thee  in  its 
length  and  breadth,  or  thine  own  Dale  to  dwell  in  freely.’ 

‘ Nay,’  she  said,  ‘ never  will  I go  back  thither!’  and  she  turned 
round  to  him  and  kissed  his  feet,  and  then  arose  and  turned  a 
little  toward  her  mate ; and  the  carle  caught  her  by  the  hand  and 
led  her  away,  and  seemed  glad  so  to  do. 

So  once  again  they  fell  asleep  in  the  woods,  and  again  the  next 
morning  fared  on  their  way  early  that  they  might  come  into  Burg- 
dale before  nightfall.  When  they  stayed  a while  at  noontide 
and  ate,  Face-of-god  again  had  talk  with  the  Runaways,  and  this 
time  with  those  of  Rose-dale,  and  he  heard  much  the  same  story 

215 


Funeral 
fashions  of  the 
Dusky  Men. 


Out  of  the  from  them  that  he  had  heard  before,  told  in  divers  ways,  till  his 

wood  again,  heart  was  sick  with  the  hearing  of  it. 

On  this  last  day  Face-of-god  led  his  men  well  athwart  the 
wood,  so  that  he  hit  Wildlake’s  Way  without  coming  to  Carl- 
stead;  and  he  came  down  into  the  Dale  some  four  hours  after 
noon  on  a bright  day  of  latter  March.  At  the  ingate  to  the 
Dale  he  found  watches  set,  the  men  whereof  told  him  that  the 
tidings  were  not  right  great.  Hall-face’s  company  had  fallen  in 
with  a band  of  the  Felons  three  score  in  number  in  the  oak-wood 
nigh  to  Boars-bait,  and  had  slain  some  and  chased  the  rest,  since 
they  found  it  hard  to  follow  them  home  as  they  ran  for  the  tangled 
thicket;  of  the  Burgdalers  had  two  been  slain  and  five  hurt  in 
this  battle. 

As  for  Red-coat’s  company,  they  had  fallen  in  with  no  foemen. 


CHAPTER  XXIX.  THEY  BRING  THE  RUNAWAYS  TO 
BURGSTEAD. 

SO  now  being  out  of  the  wood,  they  went  peaceably  and  safel}" 
along  the  Portway,  the  Runaways  mingling  with  the  Dales- 
men. Strange  showed  amidst  the  health  and  wealth  of  the 
Dale  the  rags  and  misery  and  nakedness  of  the  thralls,  like  a 
dream  amidst  the  trim  gaiety  of  spring ; and  whomsoever  they 
met,  or  came  up  with  on  the  road,  whatso  his  business  might  be, 
could  not  refrain  himself  from  following  them,  but  mingled  with 
the  men-at-arms,  and  asked  them  of  the  tidings;  and  when  they 
heard  who  these  poor  people  were,  even  delivered  thralls  of  the 
Foemen,  they  were  glad  at  heart  and  cried  out  for  joy  ; and  many 
of  the  women,  nay,  of  the  men  also,  when  they  first  came  across 
that  misery  from  out  the  heart  of  their  own  pleasant  life,  wept 
for  pity  and  love  of  the  poor  folk,  now  at  last  set  free,  and  blessed 
the  swords  that  should  do  the  like  by  the  whole  people. 

They  went  slowly  as  men  began  to  gather  about  them  ; yea, 

216 


some  of  the  good  folk  that  lived  hard  by  must  needs  fare  home  to  The  min- 
their  houses  to  fetch  cakes  and  wine  for  the  guests;  and  they  strelsy cometh 
made  them  sit  down  and  rest  on  the  green  grass  by  the  side  of 
the  Portway,  and  eat  and  drink  to  cheer  their  hearts  ; others,  s^ead. 
women  and  young  swains,  while  they  rested  went  down  into  the 
meadows  and  plucked  of  the  spring  flowers,  and  twined  them 
hastily  with  deft  and  well-wont  fingers  into  chaplets  and  garlands 
for  their  heads  and  bodies.  Thus  indeed  they  covered  their  naked- 
ness, till  the  lowering  faces  and  weather-beaten  skins  of  those 
hardly-entreated  thralls  looked  grimly  out  from  amidst  the  knots 
of  cowslip  and  oxlip,  and  the  branches  of  the  milk-white  black- 
thorn bloom,  and  the  long  trumpets  of  the  daffodils,  of  the  hue 
that  wrapped!  round  the  quill  which  the  webster  takes  in  hand 
when  she  would  pleasure  her  soul  with  the  sight  of  the  yellow 
growing  upon  the  dark  green  web. 

So  they  went  on  again  as  the  evening  was  waning,  and  when 
they  were  gotten  within  a furlong  of  the  Gate,  lo  ! there  was  come 
the  minstrelsy,  the  pipe  and  the  tabor,  the  fiddle  and  the  harp, 
and  the  folk  that  had  learned  to  sing  the  sweetest,  both  men  and 
women,  and  Redesman  at  the  head  of  them  all. 

Then  fell  the  throng  into  an  ordered  company  ; first  went  the 
music,  and  then  a score  of  Face-of-god’s  warriors  with  drawn 
swords  and  uplifted  spears  ; and  then  the  flower-bedecked  misery 
of  the  Runaways,  men  and  women  going  together,  gaunt,  be- 
fouled, and  hollow-eyed,  with  here  and  there  a flushed  cheek  or 
gleaming  eye,  or  tear-bedewed  face,  as  the  joy  and  triumph  of  the 
eve  pierced  through  their  wonted  weariness  of  grief ; then  the  rest 
of  the  warriors,  and  lastly  the  mingled  crowd  of  Dalesfolk,  tall 
men  and  fair  women  gaily  arrayed,  clean-faced,  clear-skinned,  and 
sleek-haired,  with  glancing  eyes  and  ruddy  lips. 

And  now  Redesman  turned  about  to  the  music  and  drew  his 
bow  across  his  fiddle,  and  the  other  bows  ran  out  in  concert,  and 
the  harps  followed  the  story  of  them,  and  he  lifted  up  his  voice 
and  sang  the  words  of  an  old  song,  and  all  the  singers  joined  him 

217  F F 


The  Song  of  and  blended  their  voices  with  his.  And  these  are  some  of  the 
Spring-tide.  words  which  they  sang  : 

Lo ! here  is  Spring,  and  all  we  are  living, 

We  that  were  wan  with  Winter’s  fear ; 

Reach  out  your  hands  to  her  hands  that  are  giving. 

Lest  ye  lose  her  love  and  the  light  of  the  year. 

Many  a morn  did  we  wake  to  sorrow. 

When  low  on  the  land  the  cloud-wrath  lay ; 

Many  an  eve  we  feared  to-morrow. 

The  unbegun  unfinished  day. 

Ah  we — we  hoped  not,  and  thou  wert  tardy ; 

Nought  wert  thou  helping ; nought  we  prayed. 

Where  was  the  eager  heart,  the  hardy  ? 

Where  was  the  sweet- voiced  unafraid  ? 

But  now  thou  lovest,  now  thou  leadest. 

Where  is  gone  the  grief  of  our  minds  ? 

What  was  the  word  of  the  tale,  that  thou  heedest 
E’en  as  the  breath  of  the  bygone  winds  ? 

Green  and  green  is  thy  garment  growing 
Over  thy  blossoming  limbs  beneath  ; 

Up  o’er  our  feet  rise  the  blades  of  thy  sowing. 

Pierced  are  our  hearts  with  thine  odorous  breath. 

But  where  art  thou  wending,  thou  new-comer  ? 

Hurrying  on  to  the  Courts  of  the  Sun? 

Where  art  thou  now  in  the  House  of  the  Summer  ? 

Told  are  thy  days  and  thy  deed  is  done. 

Spring  has  been  here  for  us  that  are  living 
After  the  days  of  Winter’s  fear  ; 

218 


Here  in  our  hands  is  the  wealth  of  her  giving, 

The  Love  of  the  Earth,  and  the  Light  ot  the  Year. 

Thus  came  they  to  the  Gate,  and  lo ! the  Bride  thereby,  leaning 
against  a buttress,  gazing  with  no  dull  eyes  at  the  coming  throng. 
She  was  now  clad  in  her  woman’s  attire  again,  to  wit  a light 
flame-coloured  gown  over  a green  kirtle  ; but  she  yet  bore  a gilded 
helm  on  her  head  and  a sword  girt  to  her  side  in  token  of  her 
oath  to  the  God.  She  had  been  in  Hall-face’s  company  in  that 
last  battle,  and  had  done  a man’s  service  there,  fighting  very 
valiantly,  but  had  not  been  hurt,  and  had  come  back  to  Burgstead 
when  the  shift  of  men  was. 

Now  she  drew  herself  up  and  stood  a little  way  before  the  Gate 
and  looked  forth  on  the  throng,  and  when  her  eyes  beheld  the 
Runaways  amidst  of  the  weaponed  carles  of  Burgdale,  her  face 
flushed,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  stood,  partly  won- 
dering, partly  deeming  what  they  were.  She  waited  till  Stone- 
face  came  by  her,  and  then  she  took  the  old  man  by  the  sleeve, 
and  drew  him  apart  a little  and  said  to  him  : ‘ What  meaneth  this 
show,  my  friend  ? Who  hath  clad  these  folk  thus  strangely ; and 
who  l3e  these  three  naked  tall  ones,  so  fierce-looking,  but  some- 
what noble  of  aspect  ? ’ 

For  indeed  those  three  men  of  the  kindreds,  when  they  had 
gotten  into  the  Dale,  and  had  rested  them,  and  drunk  a cup  of 
wine,  and  when  they  had  seen  the  chaplets  and  wreaths  of  the 
spring-flowers  wherewith  they  were  bedecked,  and  had  smelt  the 
sweet  savour  of  them,  fell  to  walking  proudly,  heeding  not  their 
nakedness  ; for  no  rag  had  they  upon  them  save  breech-clouts  of 
deer-skin  : they  had  changed  weapons  with  the  Burgdale  carles ; 
and  one  had  gotten  a great  axe,  which  he  bore  over  his  shoulder, 
and  the  shaft  thereof  was  all  done  about  with  copper ; and  another 
had  shouldered  a long  heavy  thrusting-spear,  and  the  third,  an  ex- 
ceeding tall  man,  bore  a long  broad-bladed  war-sword.  Thus  they 
went,  brown  of  skin  beneath  their  flower-garlands,  their  long  hair 

219 


The  Bride 
beholdeth  the 
Runaways. 


Stone-face 
telleth  the 
Bride  of  the 
Runaways. 


bleached  by  the  sun  falling  about  their  shoulders ; high  they 
strode  amongst  the  shuffling  carles  and  tripping  women  of  the  later- 
come  thralls.  But  when  they  heard  the  music,  and  saw  that  they 
were  coming  to  the  Gate  in  triumph,  strange  thoughts  of  old  memo- 
ries swelled  up  in  their  hearts,  and  they  refrained  them  not  from 
weeping,  for  they  felt  that  the  joy  of  life  had  come  back  to  them. 

Nor  must  it  be  deemed  that  these  were  the  onlj^  ones  amongst 
the  Runaways  whose  hearts  were  cheered  and  softened  : already 
were  many  of  them  coming  back  to  life,  as  they  felt  their  worn 
bodies  caressed  by  the  clear  soft  air  of  Burgdale,  and  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  flowers  that  hung  about  them,  and  saw  all  round 
about  the  kind  and  happy  faces  of  their  well-willers. 

So  Stone-face  looked  on  the  Bride  as  she  stood  with  face  yet 
tear-bedewed,  awaiting  his  answer,  and  said  : 

‘ Daughter,  thou  sayest  who  clad  these  folk  thus  ? It  was 
misery  that  hath  so  dight  them ; and  they  are  the  images  of 
what  we  shall  be  if  we  love  foul  life  better  than  fair  death, 
and  so  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Felons,  who  were  the  masters  of 
these  men.  As  for  the  tall  naked  men,  they  are  of  our  own 
blood,  and  kinsmen  to  Face-of-god’s  new  friends ; and  they  are 
of  the  best  of  the  vanquished : it  was  in  early  days  that  they  fled 
from  thralldom  ; as  we  may  have  to  do.  Now,  daughter,  I bid 
thee  be  as  joyous  as  thou  art  valiant,  and  then  shall  all  be  well.’ 
Therewith  she  smiled  on  him,  and  he  departed,  and  she  stood 
a little  while,  as  the  throng  moved  on  and  was  swallowed  by 
the  Gate,  and  looked  after  them  ; and  for  all  her  pity  for  the 
other  folk,  she  thought  chief!}"  of  those  fearless  tall  men  who 
were  of  the  blood  of  those  with  whom  it  was  lawful  to  wed. 

There  she  stood  as  the  wind  dried  the  tears  upon  her  cheeks, 
thinking  of  the  sorrow  which  these  folk  had  endured,  and  their 
stripes  and  mocking,  their  squalor  and  famine ; and  she  wondered 
and  looked  on  her  own  fair  and  shapely  hands  with  the  precious 
finger-rings  thereon,  and  on  the  dainty  cloth  and  trim  broidery 
of  her  sleeve ; and  she  touched  her  smooth  cheek  with  the  back 

220 


of  her  hand,  and  smiled,  and  felt  the  spring  sweet  in  her  mouth, 
and  its  savour  goodly  in  her  nostrils  ; and  therewith  she  called 
to  mind  the  aspect  of  her  lovely  body,  as  whiles  she  had  seen  it 
imaged,  all  its  full  measure,  in  the  clear  pool  at  midsummer, 
or  piece-meal,  in  the  shining  steel  of  the  Westland  mirror.  She 
thought  also  with  what  joy  she  drew  the  breath  of  life,  yea,  even 
amidst  of  grief,  and  of  how  sweet  and  pure  and  well-nurtured 
she  was,  and  how  well  beloved  of  many  friends  and  the  whole 
folk,  and  she  set  all  this  beside  those  woeful  bodies  and  lowering 
faces,  and  felt  shame  of  her  sorrow  of  heart,  and  the  pain  it  had 
brought  to  her ; and  ever  amidst  shame  and  pity  of  all  that 
misery  rose  up  before  her  the  images  of  those  tall  fierce  men, 
and  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  had  seen  something  like  to  them 
in  some  dream  or  imagination  of  her  mind. 

So  came  the  Burgdalers  and  their  guests  into  the  street  of 
Burgstead  amidst  music  and  singing ; and  the  throng  was  great 
there.  Then  Face-of-god  bade  make  a ring  about  the  strangers, 
and  they  did  so,  and  he  and  the  Runaways  alone  were  in  the  midst 
of  it ; and  he  spake  in  a loud  voice  and  said  : 

‘ Men  of  the  Dale  and  the  Burg,  these  folk  whom  here  ye  see  in 
such  a sorry  plight  are  they  whom  our  deadly  foes  have  rejoiced  to 
torment;  let  us  therefore  rejoice  to  cherish  them.  Now  let  those 
men  come  forth  who  deem  that  they  have  enough  and  more,  so  that 
they  may  each  take  into  their  houses  some  two  or  three  of  these 
friends  such  as  would  be  fain  to  be  together.  And  since  I am  War- 
leader,  and  have  the  right  hereto,  I will  first  choose  them  whom 
I will  lead  into  the  House  of  the  Face.  And  lo  you ! will  I have  this 
man  (and  he  laid  his  hand  on  Dallach),  who  is  he  whom  I first  came 
across,  and  who  found  us  all  these  others,  and  next  I will  have 
yonder  tall  carles,  the  three  of  them,  because  I perceive  them  to  be 
men  meet  to  be  with  a War-leader,  and  to  follow  him  in  battle/ 
Therewith  he  drew  the  three  Men  of  the  Wolf  towards  him, 
but  Dallach  already  was  standing  beside  him.  And  folk  rejoiced 
in  Face-of-god. 


They  come 
into  Burg- 
stead. 


221 


The  Burg- 
dalers  take  in 
those  guests. 


But  the  Bride  came  forward  next,  and  spake  to  him  meekly 
and  simply  : 

* War-leader,  let  me  have  of  the  women  those  who  need  me 
most,  that  I may  bring  them  to  the  House  of  the  Steer,  and  try 
if  there  be  not  some  good  days  yet  to  be  found  for  them,  wherein 
they  shall  but  remember  the  past  grief  as  an  ugly  dream.’ 

Then  Face-of-god  looked  on  her,  and  him-seemed  he  had  never 
seen  her  so  fair  ; and  all  the  shame  wherewith  he  had  beheld  her 
of  late  was  gone  from  him,  and  his  heart  ran  over  with  friendly 
lov^e  towards  her  as  she  looked  into  his  face  with  kindly  eyes ; 
and  he  said : 

‘ Kinswoman,  take  thy  choice  as  thy  kindness  biddeth,  and 
happy  shall  they  be  whom  thou  choosest.’ 

She  bowed  her  head  soberly,  and  chose  from  among  the  guests 
four  women  of  the  saddest  and  most  grievous,  and  no  man  of 
their  kindred  spake  for  going  along  with  them ; then  she  went 
her  ways  home,  leading  one  of  them  by  the  hand,  and  strange 
was  it  to  see  those  twain  going  through  sun  and  shade  together, 
that  poor  wretch  along  with  the  goodliest  of  women. 

Then  came  forward  one  after  other  of  the  worthy  goodmen  of 
the  Dale,  and  especially  such  as  were  old,  and  they  led  away 
one  one  man,  and  another  two,  and  another  three,  and  often 
would  a man  crave  to  go  with  a woman  or  a woman  with  a man, 
and  it  was  not  gainsaid  them.  So  were  all  the  guests  appor- 
tioned, and  ill-content  were  those  goodmen  that  had  to  depart 
without  a guest ; and  one  man  would  say  to  another  : * Such- 
an-one,  be  not  downcast ; this  guest  shall  be  between  us,  if  he 
will,  and  shall  dwell  with  thee  and  me  month  about ; but  this 
first  month  with  me,  since  I was  first  comer.’  And  so  forth 
was  it  said. 

Now  to  prevent  the  time  to  come,  it  may  be  said  about  the 
Runaways,  that  when  they  had  been  a little  while  amongst  the 
Burgdalers,  well  fed  and  well  clad  and  kindly  cherished,  it  was 
marvellous  how  they  were  bettered  in  aspect  of  body,  and  it  began 

222 


to  be  seen  of  them  that  they  were  well-favoured  people,  and  How  the 
divers  of  the  women  exceeding  goodly,  black-haired  and  grey-  Runaways 
eyed,  and  very  clear-skinned  and  white-skinned ; most  of  them 
were  young,  and  the  oldest  had  not  seen  above  forty  winters. 

They  of  Rose-dale,  and  especially  such  as  had  first  fled  away 
to  the  wood,  were  very  soon  seen  to  be  merry  and  kindly  folk ; 
but  they  who  had  been  longest  in  captivity,  and  notably  those 
from  Silver-dale  who  were  not  of  the  kindreds,  were  for  a long 
time  sullen  and  heavy,  and  it  availed  little  to  trust  to  them  for 
the  doing  of  work  ; albeit  they  would  follow  about  their  friends 
of  Burgdale  with  the  love  of  a dog ; also  they  were,  divers  of 
them,  somewhat  thievish,  and  if  they  lacked  anything  would 
liefer  take  it  by  stealth  than  ask  for  it ; which  forsooth  the  Burg- 
dale men  took  not  amiss,  but  deemed  of  it  as  a jest  rather. 

Very  few  of  the  Runaways  had  any  will  to  fare  back  to  their 
old  homes,  or  indeed  could  be  got  to  go  into  the  wood,  or,  after 
a day  or  two,  to  say  any  word  of  Rose-dale  or  Silver-dale.  In 
this  and  other  matters  the  Burgdalers  dealt  with  them  as  with 
children  who  must  have  their  way;  for  they  deemed  that  their 
guests  had  much  time  to  make  up ; also  they  were  well  content 
when  they  saw  how  goodly  they  were,  for  these  Dalesmen  loved 
to  see  men  goodly  of  body  and  of  a cheerful  countenance. 

As  for  Dallach  and  the  three  Silver-dale  men  of  the  kindred, 
they  went  gladly  whereas  the  Burgdale  men  would  have  them  ; 
and  half  a score  others  took  weapons  in  thfir  hands  when  the 
war  was  foughten  : concerning  which  more  hereafter. 

But  on  the  even  whereof  the  tale  now  tells,  Face-of-god  and 
Stone-face  and  their  company  met  after  nightfall  in  the  Hall 
of  the  Face  clad  in  glorious  raiment,  and  therewith  were  Dallach 
and  the  men  of  Silver-dale,  washen  and  docked  of  their  long  hair, 
after  the  fashion  of  warriors  who  bear  the  helm  ; and  they  were 
clad  in  gay  attire,  with  battle-swords  girt  to  their  sides  and  gold 
rings  on  their  arms.  Somewhat  stern  and  sad-eyed  were  those 
Silver-dalers  yet,  though  they  looked  on  those  about  them  kindly 

223 


Face-of-god 
leadeth  those 
three  into  the 
Hall. 


and  courteously  when  they  met  their  eyes ; and  Face-of-god 
yearned  towards  them  when  he  called  to  mind  the  beauty  and 
wisdom  and  loving-kindness  of  the  Sun-beam.  They  were,  as 
aforesaid,  strong  men  and  tall,  and  one  of  them  taller  than  any 
amidst  that  house  of  tall  men.  Their  names  were  Wolf-stone, 
the  tallest,  and  God-swain,  and  Spear-fist ; and  God-swain  the 
youngest  was  of  thirty  winters,  and  Wolf-stone  of  forty.  They 
came  into  the  Hall  in  such  wise,  that  when  they  were  washed 
and  attired,  and  all  men  were  assembled  in  the  Hall,  and  the 
Alderman  and  the  chieftains  sitting  on  the  dais,  Face-of-god 
brought  them  in  from  the  out-bower,  holding  Dallach  by  the 
right  hand ''and  Wolf-stone  by  the  left;  and  he  looked  but  a 
stripling  beside  that  huge  man. 

And  when  the  men  in  the  Hall  beheld  such  goodly  warriors, 
and  remembered  their  grief  late  past,  they  all  stood  up  and 
shouted  for  joy  of  them.  But  Face-of-god  passed  up  the  Hall 
with  them,  and  stood  before  the  dais  and  said  : 

‘ O Alderman  of  the  Dale  and  Chief  of  the  House  of  the 
Face,  here  I bring  to  you  the  foes  of  our  foemen,  whom  I have 
met  in  the  Wild- wood,  and  bidden  to  our  House  ; and  me- 
seemeth  they  will  be  our  friends,  and  stand  beside  us  in  the  day 
of  battle.  Therefore  I say,  take  these  guests  and  me  together, 
or  put  us  all  to  the  door  together ; and  if  thou  wilt  take  them, 
then  show  them  to  such  places  as  thou  deemest  meet.’ 

Then  stood  up  the  Alderman  and  said  : 

‘ Men  of  Silver-dale  and  Rose-dale,  I bid  you  welcome  ! Be 
ye  our  friends,  and  abide  here  with  us  as  long  as  seemeth  good 
to  you,  and  share  in  all  that  is  ours.  Son  Face-of-god,  show 
these  warriors  to  seats  on  the  dais  beside  thee,  and  cherish  them 
as  well  as  thou  knowest  how.’ 

Then  Face-of-god  brought  them  up  on  to  the  dais  and  sat 
down  on  the  right  hand  of  his  father,  with  Dallach  on  his  right 
hand,  and  then  Wolf-stone  out  from  him  ; then  sat  Stone-face, 
that  there  might  be  a man  of  the  Dale  to  talk  with  them  and 

224 


serve  them ; and  on  his  right  hand  first  Spear-fi'st  and  then  God- 
swain.  And  when  they  were  all  sat  down,  and  the  meat  was 
on  the  board.  Iron-face  turned  to  his  son  Face-of-god  and  took 
his  hand,  and  said  in  a loud  voice,  so  that  many  might  hear  him  : 

‘ Son  Face-of-god,  son  Gold-mane,  thou  bearest  with  thee 
both  ill  luck  and  good.  Erewhile,  when  thou  wanderedst  out 
into  the  Wild-wood,  seeking  thou  knewest  not  what  from  out  of 
the  Land  of  Dreams,  thou  didst  but  bring  aback  to  us  grief 
and  shame ; but  now  that  thou  hast  gone  forth  with  the  neigh- 
bours seeking  thy  foemen,  thou  hast  come  aback  to  us  with  thine 
hands  full  of  honour  and  joy  for  us,  and  we  thank  thee  for  thy 
gifts,  and  I call  thee  a lucky  man.  Herewith,  kinsman,  I drink 
to  thee  and  the  lasting  of  thy  luck.’ 

Therewith  he  stood  up  and  drank  the  health  of  the  War- 
leader  and  the  Guests  : and  all  men  were  exceeding  joyous 
thereat,  when  they  called  to  mind  his  wrath  at  the  Gate-thing, 
and  they  shouted  for  gladness  as  thej’^  drank  that  health,  and 
the  feast  became  exceeding  merry  in  the  House  of  the  Face  ; 
and  as  to  the  war  to  come,  it  seemed  to  them  as  if  it  were  over 
and  done  in  all  triumph. 


The  Alder- 
man giveth 
Face-of-god 
good  words. 


CHAPTER  XXX.  HALL-FACE  GOETH  TOWARD  ROSE- 
DALE. 

ON  the  morrow  Face-of-god  took  counsel  with  Hall-face  and 
Stone-face  as  to  what  were  best  to  be  done,  and  they  sat  on 
the  dais  in  the  Hall  to  talk  it  over. 

Short  was  the  time  that  had  worn  since  that  day  in  Shadowy 
Vale,  for  it  was  but  eight  days  since  then  ; yet  so  many  things 
had  befallen  in  that  time,  and,  to  speak  shortly,  the  outlook  for 
the  Burgdalers  had  changed  so  much,  that  the  time  seemed  long  to 
all  the  three,  and  especially  to  Face-of-god. 

Itwasyettwentydaystillthe  Great  Folk-mote  should  beholden, 

225  G G 


Rede  con- 
cerning 
matters. 


and  to  Hall-face  the  time  seemed  long  enough  to  do  somewhat, 
and  he  deemed  it  were  good  to  gather  force  and  fall  on  the  Dusky 
Men  in  Rose-dale,  since  now  they  had  gotten  men  who  could  lead 
them  the  nighest  way  and  by  the  safest  passes,  and  who  knew  all 
the  ways  of  the  foemen.  But  to  Stone-face  this  rede  seemed  not 
so  good ; for  they  would  have  to  go  and  come  back,  and  fight 
and  conquer,  in  less  time  than  twenty  days,  or  be  belated  of  the 
Folk-mote,  and  meanwhile  much  might  happen. 

‘ For,’  said  Stone-face,‘  we  may  deem  the  fighting-men  of  Rose- 
dale  to  be  little  less  than  one  thousand,  and  however  we  fall  on  them, 
even  if  it  be  unawares  at  first,  they  shall  fight  stubbornly ; so 
that  we  may  not  send  against  them  many  less  than  they  be,  and 
that  shall  strip  Burgdale  of  its  fighting-men,  so  that  whatever 
befalls,  we  that  be  left  shall  have  to  bide  at  home.’ 

Now  was  Face-of-god  of  the  same  mind  as  Stone-face;  and 
he  said  moreover  : ‘ When  we  go  to  Rose-dale  we  must  abide 
there  a while  unless  we  be  overthrown.  For  if  ye  conquer  it  and 
come  away  at  once,  presently  shall  the  tidings  come  to  the  ears 
of  the  Dusky  Men  in  Silver-dale,  and  they  shall  join  themselves 
to  those  of  Rose-dale  who  have  fled  before  you,  and  between 
them  they  shall  destroy  the  unhappy  people  therein  ; for  ye  can- 
not take  them  all  away  with  you  : and  that  shall  they  do  all  the 
more  now,  when  they  look  to  have  new  thralls  in  Burgdale,  both 
men  and  women.  And  this  we  may  not  suffer,  but  must  abide  till 
we  have  met  all  our  foemen  and  have  overcome  them,  so  that  the 
poor  folk  there  shall  be  safe  from  them  till  they  have  learned  how 
to  defend  their  dale.  Now  my  rede  is,  that  we  send  out  the  War- 
arrow  at  once  up  and  down  the  Dale,  and  to  the  Shepherds  and 
Woodlanders,  and  appoint  a day  for  the  Muster  and  Weapon- 
show  of  all  our  Folk,  and  that  day  to  be  the  day  before  the 
Spring  Market,  that  is  to  say,  four  days  before  the  Great  Folk- 
mote,  and  meantime  that  we  keep  sure  watch  about  the  border 
of  the  wood,  and  now  and  again  scour  the  wood,  so  as  to  clear 
the  Dale  of  their  wandering  bands.’ 

226 


‘ Yea,’  said  Hall- face ; ^ and  I pray  thee,  brother,  let  me  have 
an  hundred  of  men  and  thy  Dallach,  and  let  us  go  somewhat  deep 
into  the  wood  towards  Rose-dale,  and  see  what  we  may  come 
across ; peradventure  it  might  be  something  better  than  hart  or 
wild-swine.’ 

Said  Face-of-god : ‘ I see  no  harm  therein,  if  Dallach  goeth 
with  thee  freely ; for  I will  have  no  force  put  on  him  or  any  other 
of  the  Runaways.  Yet  meseemeth  it  were  not  ill  for  thee  to  find 
the  road  to  Rose-dale  ; for  I have  it  in  my  mind  to  send  a company 
thither  to  give  those  Rose-dale  man-quellers  somewhat  to  do  at 
home  when  we  fall  upon  Silver-dale.  Therefore  go  find  Dallach, 
and  get  thy  men  together  at  once ; for  the  sooner  thou  art  gone 
on  thy  way  the  better.  But  this  I bid  thee,  go  no  further  than 
three  days  out,  that  ye  may  be  back  home  betimes.’ 

At  this  word  Hall-face’s  eyes  gleamed  with  joy,  and  he  went 
out  from  the  Hall  straightway  and  sought  Dallach,  and  found  him 
at  the  Gate . I ron-face  had  given  him  a new  sword,  a good  one,  and 
had  bidden  him  call  it  Thicket-clearer,  and  he  would  not  leave 
it  any  moment  of  the  day  or  night,  but  would  lay  it  under  his 
pillow  at  night  as  a child  does  with  a new  toy  ; and  now  he  was 
leaning  against  a buttress  and  drawing  the  said  sword  half  out 
of  the  scabbard  and  poring  over  its  blade,  which  was  indeed  fair 
enough,  being  wrought  with  dark  grey  waving  lines  like  the  eddies 
of  the  Weltering  Water. 

So  Hall-face  greeted  him,  and  smiled  and  said : 

‘ Guest,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  may’st  take  that  new  blade  of  my 
father’s  workwhichthou  lovest  so,  a journey  which  shall  rejoice  it.’ 
‘ Yea,’  said  Dallach,  ‘ I suppose  that  thou  wouldest  fare  on 
thy  brother’s  footsteps,  and  deemest  that  I am  the  man  to  lead 
thee  on  the  road,  and  even  farther  than  he  went ; and  though  it 
might  be  thought  by  some  that  I have  seen  enough  of  Rose-dale 
and  the  parts  thereabout  for  one  while,  yet  will  I go  with  thee ; 
for  now  am  I a man  again,  body  and  soul.’ 

And  therewith  he  drew  Thicket-clearer  right  out  of  his  sheath 

227 


Hall-face  to 
seek  toward 
Rose-dale. 


Hall-face  and  waved  him  in  the  air.  And  Hall-face  was  glad  of  him 
comes  back,  and  said  he  was  well  apaid  of  his  help.  So  they  went  away  to- 
gether to  gather  men,  and  on  the  morrow  Hall-face  departed 
and  went  into  the  Wild-wood  with  Dallach  and  an  hundred  and 
two  score  men. 

But  as  for  Face-of-god,  he  fared  up  and  down  the  Dale 
following  the  War-arrow,  and  went  into  all  houses,  and  talked 
with  the  folk,  both  young  and  old,  men  and  women,  and  told 
them  closely  all  that  had  betid  and  all  that  was  like  to  betide ; 
and  he  was  well  pleased  with  that  which  he  saw  and  heard ; for  all 
took  his  words  well,  and  were  nought  afeard  or  dismayed  by  the 
tidings  ; and  he  saw  that  they  would  not  hang  aback.  Mean- 
time the  days  wore,  and  Hall-face  came  not  back  till  the  seventh 
day,  and  he  brought  with  him  twelve  more  Runaways,  of  whom 
five  were  women.  But  he  had  lost  four  men,  and  had  with  him 
Dallach  and  five  others  of  the  Dalesmen  borne  upon  litters  sore 
hurt ; and  this  was  his  story  : 

They  got  to  the  Burg  of  the  Runaways  on  the  forenoon  of  the 
third  day,  and  thereby  came  on  five  carles  of  the  Runaways — men 
who  had  missed  meeting  Dallach  that  other  day,  but  knew  what 
had  been  done  ; for  one  of  them  had  been  sick  and  could  not  come 
with  him,  and  he  had  told  the  others  : so  now  they  were  hanging 
about  the  Burg  of  the  Runaways  hoping  somewhat  that  he  might 
come  again  ; and  they  met  the  Burgdalers  full  of  joy,  and  brought 
them  trouts  that  they  had  caught  in  the  river. 

As  for  the  other  runaways,  namely,  five  women  and  two  more 
carles — they  had  gotten  them  close  to  the  entrance  into  Silver-dale, 
where  by  night  and  cloud  they  came  on  a campment  of  the  Dusky 
Men,  who  were  leading  home  these  seven  poor  wretches,  runaways 
whom  they  had  caught,  that  they  might  slay  them  most  evilly  in 
Rose-stead.  So  Hall-face  fell  on  the  Dusky  Men,  and  delivered 
their  captives,  but  slew  not  all  the  foe,  and  they  that  fled  brought 
pursuers  on  them  who  came  up  with  them  the  next  day,  so  near 
was  Rose-dale,  though  they  made  all  diligence  homeward.  The 

228 


I 


Burgdalers  must  needs  turn  and  fight  with  those  pursuers,  and  at  Men  slain 
last  they  drave  them  aback  so  that  they  might  go  on  their  ways  and  hurt, 
home.  They  let  not  the  grass  grow  beneath  their  feet  thereafter, 
till  they  were  assured  by  meeting  a band  of  the  Woodlanders, 
who  had  gone  forth  to  help  them,  and  with  whom  they  rested  a 
little.  But  neither  so  were  they  quite  done  with  the  foemen,  who 
came  upon  them  next  day  a very  many  : these  however  they  and 
the  Woodlanders,  who  were  all  fresh  and  unwounded  and  very 
valiant,  speedily  put  to  the  worse  ; and  so  they  came  on  to  Burg- 
stead,  leaving  those  of  them  who  were  sorest  hurt  to  be  tended  by 
the  Woodlanders  at  Carlstead,  who,  as  might  be  looked  for,  dealt 
with  them  very  lovingly. 

It  was  in  the  first  fight  that  they  suffered  that  loss  of  slain  and 
wounded ; and  therein  the  newly  delivered  thralls  fought  valiantly 
against  their  masters  : as  for  Dallach,  it  was  no  marvel,  said  Hall- 
face,  that  he  was  hurt ; but  rather  a marvel  that  he  was  not  slain, 
so  little  he  recked  of  point  and  edge,  if  he  might  but  slay  the 
foemen. 

Such  was  Hall-face’s  tale ; and  Face-of-god  deemed  that  he 
had  done  unwisely  to  let  him  go  that  journey  ; for  the  slaying  of 
a few  Dusky  Men  was  but  a light  gain  to  set  against  the  loss  of 
so  many  Burgdalers  ; yet  was  he  glad  of  the  deliverance  of  those 
Runaways,  and  deemed  it  a gain  indeed.  But  henceforth  would 
he  hold  all  still  till  he  should  have  tidings  of  Folk-might;  so 
nought  was  done  thereafter  save  the  warding  of  the  Dale,  from  the 
country  of  the  Shepherds  to  the  Waste  above  the  Eastern  passes. 

But  Face-of-god  himself  went  up  amongst  the  Shepherds, 
and  abode  with  a goodman  hight  Hound-under-Greenbury,  who 
gathered  to  him  the  folk  from  the  country-side,  and  they  went  up 
on  to  Greenbury,  and  sat  on  the  green  grass  while  he  spoke  with 
them  and  told  them,  as  he  had  told  the  others,  what  had  been 
done  and  what  should  be  done.  And  they  heard  him  gladly,  and 
he  deemed  that  there  would  be  no  blenching  in  them,  for  they 
were  all  in  one  tale  to  live  and  die  with  their  friends  of  Burgdale, 

229 


Face-of-god 
speaketh  with 
the  Wood- 
landers. 


and  they  said  that  they  would  have  no  other  word  save  that  to 
bear  to  the  Great  Folk-mote. 

So  he  went  away  well-pleased,  and  he  fared  on  thence  to  the 
Woodlanders,  and  guested  at  the  house  of  a valiant  man  hight 
Wargrove,  who  on  the  morrow  morn  called  the  folk  together  to 
a green  lawn  of  the  Wild-wood,  so  that  there  was  scarce  a soul 
of  them  that  was  not  there.  Then  he  laid  the  whole  matter  be- 
fore them  ; and  if  the  Dalesmen  had  been  merry  and  ready,  and 
the  Shepherds  stout-hearted  and  friendly,  yet  were  the  Wood- 
landers more  eager  still,  so  that  every  hour  seemed  long  to  them 
till  they  stood  in  their  war-gear  ; and  they  told  him  that  now  at 
last  was  the  hour  drawing  nigh  which  they  had  dreamed  of,  but 
had  scarce  dared  to  hope  for,  when  the  lost  way  should  be  found, 
and  the  crooked  made  straight,  and  that  which  had  been  broken 
should  be  mended ; that  their  meat  and  drink,  and  sleeping  and 
waking,  and  all  that  they  did  were  now  become  to  them  but  the 
means  of  living  till  the  day  was  come  whereon  the  two  remnants 
of  the  children  of  the  Wolf  should  meet  and  become  one  Folk  to 
live  or  die  together. 

Then  went  Face-of-god  back  to  Burgstead  again,  and  as  he 
stood  anigh  the  Thing-stead  once  more,  and  looked  down  on  the 
Dale  as  he  had  beheld  it  last  autumn,  he  bethought  him  that  with 
all  that  had  been  done  and  all  that  had  been  promised,  the  earth 
was  clearing  of  her  trouble,  and  that  now  there  was  nought  betwixt 
him  and  the  happy  days  of  life  which  the  Dale  should  give  to  the 
dwellers  therein,  save  the  gathering  hosts  of  the  battle-field  and 
the  day  when  the  last  word  should  be  spoken  and  the  first  stroke 
smitten.  So  he  went  down  on  to  the  Portway  well  content. 

Thereafter  till  the  day  of  the  Weapon-show  there  is  nought  to 
tell  of,  save  that  Dallach  and  the  other  wounded  men  began  to 
grow  whole  again;  and  all  men  sat  at  home,  or  went  on  the 
woodland  ward,  expecting  great  tidings  after  the  holding  of 
the  Folk-mote. 


230 


CHAPTER  XXXI.  OF  THE  WEAPON-SHOW  OF  THE 
MEN  OF  BURGDALE  AND  THEIR  NEIGHBOURS. 


NOW  on  the  day  appointed  for  the  Weapon-show  came  the  Men  gather  in 
Folk  flock-meal  to  the  great  and  wide  meadow  that  was  meadow, 
cleft  by  Wildlake  as  it  ran  to  join  the  Weltering  Water. 

Early  in  the  morning,  even  before  sunrise,  had  the  wains  full  of 
women  and  children  begun  to  come  thither.  Also  there  came 
little  horses  and  asses  from  the  Shepherd  country  with  one  or  two 
or  three  damsels  or  children  sitting  on  each,  and  by  wain- side  or 
by  beast  strode  the  men  of  the  house,  merry  and  fair  in  their  war- 
gear.  The  Woodlanders,  moreover,  man  and  woman,  elder  and 
swain  and  young  damsel,  streamed  out  of  the  wood  from  Carl- 
stead,  eager  to  make  the  day  begin  before  the  sunrise,  and  end  be- 
fore his  setting. 

Then  all  men  fell  to  pitching  of  tents  and  tilting  over  of  wains ; 
for  the  April  sun  was  hot  in  the  Dale,  and  when  he  arose  the 
meads  were  gay  with  more  than  the  spring  flowers ; for  the  tents 
and  the  tilts  were  stained  and  broidered  with  many  colours,  and 
there  was  none  who  had  not  furbished  up  his  war-gear  so  that 
all  shone  and  glittered.  And  many  wore  gay  surcoats  over  their 
armour,  and  the  women  were  clad  in  all  their  bravery,  and  the 
Houses  mostly  of  a suit;  for  one  bore  blue  and  another  corn-colour, 
and  another  green,  and  another  brazil,  and  so  forth,  and  all  gleam- 
ing and  glowing  with  broidery  of  gold  and  bright  hues.  But  the 
women  of  the  Shepherds  were  all  clad  in  white,  embroidered  with 
green  boughs  and  red  blossoms,  and  the  Woodland  women  wore 
dark  red  kirtles.  Moreover,  the  women  had  set  garlands  of  flowers 
on  their  heads  and  the  helms  of  the  men,  and  for  the  most  part 
they  were  slim  of  body  and  tall  and  light-limbed,  and  as  dainty 
to  look  upon  as  the  willow-boughs  that  waved  on  the  brook-side. 

Thither  had  the  goodmen  who  were  guesting  the  Runaways 
brought  their  guests,  even  now  much  bettered  by  their  new  soft 
days ; and  much  the  poor  folk  marvelled  at  all  this  joyance,  and 

231 


Men  come 
out  from 
Burgstead. 


they  scarce  knew  where  they  were ; but  to  some  it  brought  back 
to  their  minds  days  of  joyance  before  the  thralldom  and  all  that 
they  had  lost,  so  that  their  hearts  were  heavy  a while,  till  they  saw 
the  warriors  of  the  kindreds  streaming  into  the  mead  and  bethought 
them  why  they  carried  steel. 

Now  by  then  the  sun  was  fully  up  there  was  a great  throng  on 
the  Portway,  and  this  was  the  folk  of  the  Burg  on  their  way  to 
the  Weapon-mead.  The  men-at-arms  were  in  the  midst  of  the 
throng,  and  at  the  head  of  them  was  the  War-leader,  with  the 
banner  of  the  Face  before  him,  wherein  was  done  the  image  of  the 
God  with  the  ray-ringed  head.  But  at  the  rearward  of  the  warriors 
went  the  Alderman  and  the  Burg-wardens,  before  whom  was  borne 
the  banner  of  the  Burg  pictured  with  the  Gate  and  its  Towers; 
but  in  the  midst  betwixt  those  two  was  the  banner  of  the  Steer, 
a white  beast  on  a green  field. 

So  when  the  Dale-wardens  who  were  down  in  the  meadow  heard 
the  music  and  beheld  who  were  coming,  they  bade  the  companies 
of  the  Dale  and  the  Shepherds  and  the  Woodlanders  who  were 
down  there  to  pitch  their  banners  in  a half  circle  about  the  ingle 
of  the  meadow  which  was  made  by  the  streams  of  Wildlake  and 
the  Weltering  Water,  and  gather  to  them  to  be  ordered  there 
under  their  leaders  of  scores  and  half-hundreds  and  hundreds ; and 
even  so  they  did.  But  the  banners  of  the  Dale  without  the  Burg 
were  the  Bridge,  and  the  Bull,  and  the  Vine,  and  the  Sickle.  And 
the  Shepherds  had  three  banners,  to  wit  Greenbury,  and  the  Fleece, 
and  the  Thorn. 

As  for  the  Woodlanders,  they  said  that  they  were  abiding  their 
great  banner,  but  it  should  come  in  good  time  ; ‘ and  meantime,’ 
said  they,  ‘ here  are  the  war-tokens  that  we  shall  fight  under ; for 
they  are  good  enough  banners  for  us  poor  men,  the  remnant  of  the 
valiant  of  time  past.’  Therewith  they  showed  two  great  spears, 
and  athwart  the  one  was  tied  an  arrow,  its  point  dipped  in  blood, 
its  feathers  singed  with  fire ; and  they  said,  ‘ This  is  the  banner 
of  the  War-shaft.’ 

232 


On  the  other  spear  there  was  nought ; but  the  head  thereof  The  War- 
was  great  and  long,  and  they  had  so  burnished  the  steel  that  the  leader  taketh 
sun  smote  out  a ray  of  light  from  it,  so  that  it  might  be  seen  from 
afar.  And  they  said  : ‘This  is  the  Banner  of  the  Spear  ! Down 
yonder  where  the  ravens  are  gathering  ye  shall  see  a banner  fly- 
ing over  us.  There  shall  fall  many  a mother’s  son.’ 

Smiled  the  Dale-wardens,  and  said  that  these  were  good  ban- 
ners to  fight  under ; and  those  that  stood  nearby  shouted  for  the 
valiancy  of  the  Woodland  Carles. 

Now  the  Dale-wardens  went  to  the  entrance  from  the  Portway 
to  the  meadow,  and  there  met  the  Men  of  the  Burg,  and  two  of 
them  went  one  on  either  side  of  the  War-leader  to  show  him  to 
his  seat,  and  the  others  abode  till  the  Alderman  and  Burg-war- 
dens came  up,  and  then  joined  themselves  to  them,  and  the  horns 
blew  up  both  in  the  meadow  and  on  the  road,  and  the  new-comers 
went  their  ways  to  their  appointed  places  amidst  the  shouts  of  the 
Dalesmen ; and  the  women  and  children  and  old  men  from  the 
Burg  followed  after,  till  all  the  mead  was  covered  with  bright 
raiment  and  glittering  gear,  save  within  the  ring  of  men  at  the 
further  end. 

So  came  the  War-leader  to  his  seat  of  green  turf  raised  in  the 
ingle  aforesaid  ; and  he  stood  beside  it  till  the  Alderman  and  War- 
dens had  taken  their  places  on  a seat  behind  him  raised  higher 
than  his ; below  him  on  the  step  of  his  seat  sat  the  Scrivener 
with  his  pen  and  ink-horn  and  scroll  of  parchment,  and  men  had 
brought  him  a smooth  shield  whereon  to  write. 

On  the  left  side  of  Face-of-god  stood  the  men  of  the  Face 
all  glittering  in  their  arms,  and  amongst  them  were  Wolf-stone 
and  his  two  fellows,  but  Dallach  was  not  yet  whole  of  his  hurts. 

On  his  right  were  the  folk  of  the  House  of  the  Steer  : the  leader 
of  that  House  was  an  old  white-bearded  man,  grandfather  of  the 
Bride,  for  her  father  was  dead  ; and  who  but  the  Bride  herself 
stood  beside  him  in  her  glorious  war-gear,  looking  as  if  she  were 
new  come  from  the  City  of  the  Gods,  thought  most  men ; but 

233  H H 


The  War- 

leader 

speaketh. 


those  who  beheld  her  closely  deemed  that  she  looked  heavy-eyed 
and  haggard,  as  if  she  were  aweary.  Nevertheless,  wheresoever 
she  passed,  and  whosoever  looked  on  her  (and  all  men  looked  on 
her),  there  arose  a murmur  of  praise  and  love ; and  the  women, 
and  especially  the  young  ones,  said  how  fair  her  deed  was,  and 
how  meet  she  was  for  it ; and  some  of  them  were  for  doing  on 
war-gear  and  faring  to  battle  with  the  carles  ; and  of  these  some 
were  sober  and  solemn,  as  was  well  seen  afterwards,  and  some 
spake  lightly  : some  also  fell  to  boasting  of  how  they  could  run 
and  climb  and  swim  and  shoot  in  the  bow,  and  fell  to  baring  of 
their  arms  to  show  how  strong  they  were  : and  indeed  they  were 
no  weaklings,  though  their  arms  were  fair. 

There  then  stood  the  ring  of  men,  each  company  under  its 
banner ; and  beyond  them  stood  the  women  and  children  and 
men  unmeet  for  battle ; and  beyond  them  again  the  tilted  wains 
and  the  tents. 

Now  Face-0 f-god  sat  him  down  on  the  turf-seat  with  his  bright 
helm  on  his  head  and  his  naked  sword  across  his  knees,  while 
the  horns  blew  up  loudly,  and  when  they  had  done,  the  elder  of 
the  Dale-wardens  cried  out  for  silence.  Then  again  arose  Face- 
of-god  and  said  : 

‘ Men  of  the  Dale,  and  ye  friends  of  the  Shepherds,  and  ye,  O 
valiant  Woodlanders  ; we  are  not  assembled  here  to  take  coun- 
sel, for  in  three  days’  time  shall  the  Great  Folk-mote  be  holden, 
whereat  shall  be  counsel  enough.  But  since  I have  been  ap- 
pointed your  Chief  and  War-leader,  till  such  time  as  the  Folk- 
mote  shall  either  yeasay  or  naysay  my  leadership,  I have  sent 
for  you  that  we  may  look  each  other  in  the  face  and  number  our 
host  and  behold  our  weapons,  and  see  if  we  be  meet  for  battle  and 
for  the  dealing  with  a great  host  of  foemen.  For  now  no  longer 
can  it  be  said  that  we  are  going  to  war,  but  rather  that  war  is 
on  our  borders,  and  we  are  blended  with  it ; as  many  have  learned 
to  their  cost ; for  some  have  been  slain  and  some  sorely  hurt. 
Therefore  I bid  you  now,  all  ye  that  are  weaponed,  wend  past  us 

234 


that  the  tale  of  you  may  be  taken.  But  first  let  ever3^  hundred- 
leader  and  half-hundred-leader  and  score-leader  make  sure  that 
he  hath  his  tale  aright,  and  give  his  word  to  the  captain  of  his 
banner  that  he  in  turn  may  give  it  out  to  the  Scrivener  with  his 
name  and  the  House  and  Company  that  he  leadeth.’ 

So  he  spake  and  sat  him  adown  ; and  the  horns  blew  again  in 
token  that  the  companies  should  go  past ; and  the  first  that  came 
was  Hall-ward  of  the  House  of  the  Steer,  and  the  first  of  those 
that  went  after  him  was  the  Bride,  going  as  if  she  were  his  son. 

So  he  cried  out  his  name,  and  the  name  of  his  House,  and  said, 

^ An  hundred  and  a half,’  and  passed  forth,  his  men  following 
him  in  most  goodly  array.  Each  man  was  girt  with  a good  sword 
and  bore  a long  heavy  spear  over  his  shoulder,  save  a score  who 
bare  bows ; and  no  man  lacked  a helm,  a shield,  and  a coat  of  fence. 

Then  came  a goodly  man  of  thirty  winters,  and  stayed  before 
the  Scrivener  and  cried  out : 

‘ Write  down  the  House  of  the  Bridge  of  the  Upper  Dale  at 
one  hundred,  and  War-well  their  leader.’ 

And  he  strode  on,  and  his  men  followed  clad  and  weaponed 
like  those  of  the  Steer,  save  that  some  had  axes  hanging  to  their 
girdles  instead  of  swords ; and  most  bore  casting-spears  instead  of 
the  long  spears,  and  half  a score  were  bowmen. 

Then  came  Fox  of  Upton  leading  the  men  of  the  Bull  of  Mid- 
dale, an  hundred  and  a half  lacking  two;  very  great  and  tall  were 
his  men,  and  they  also  bore  long  spears,  and  one  score  and  two 
were  bowmen. 

Then  Fork-beard  of  Lea,  a man  well  on  in  years,  led  on  the 
men  of  the  Vine,  an  hundred  and  a half  and  five  men  thereto; 
two  score  of  them  bare  bow  in  hand  and  were  girt  with  sword ; 
the  rest  bore  their  swords  naked  in  their  right  hands,  and  their 
shields  (which  were  but  small  bucklers)  hanging  at  their  backs, 
and  in  the  left  hand  each  bore  two  casting-spears.  With  these 
went  two  doughty  women-at-arms  among  the  bowmen,  tall  and 
well-knit,  already  growing  brown  with  the  spring  sun,  for  their 

235 


The  Steer, 
the  Bridge, 
the  Bull, 
and  the  Vine. 


The  Sickle, 
the  Face,  and 
Greenbury 
goby. 


work  lay  among  the  stocks  of  the  vines  on  the  southward-look- 
ing bents. 

Next  came  a tall  young  man,  yellow-haired,  with  a thin  red 
beard,  and  gave  himself  out  for  Red-beard  of  the  Knolls;  he  bore 
his  father’s  name,  as  the  custom  of  their  house  was,  but  the  old 
man,  who  had  long  been  head  man  of  the  House  of  the  Sickle,  was 
late  dead  in  his  bed,  and  the  young  man  had  not  seen  twenty 
winters.  He  bade  the  Scrivener  write  the  tale  of  the  Men  of  the 
Sickle  at  an  hundred  and  a half,  and  his  folk  fared  past  the  War- 
leader  joyously,  being  one  half  of  them  bowmen ; and  fell  shooters 
they  were  ; the  other  half  were  girt  with  swords,  and  bore  withal 
long  ashen  staves  armed  with  great  blades  curved  inwards,  which 
weapon  they  called  heft-sax. 

All  these  bands,  as  the  name  and  the  tale  of  them  was  declared 
were  greeted  with  loud  shouts  from  their  fellows  and  the  by- 
standers ; but  now  arose  a greater  shout  still,  as  Stone-face,  clad 
in  goodly  glittering  array,  came  forth  and  said  : 

‘ I am  Stone-face  of  the  House  of  the  Face,  and  I bring  with 
me  two  hundreds  of  men  with  their  best  war-gear  and  weapons  : 
write  it  down.  Scrivener  ! ’ 

And  he  strode  on  like  a young  man  after  those  who  had  gone 
past,  and  after  him  came  the  tall  Hall-face  and  his  men,  a gallant 
sight  to  see  : two  score  bowmen  girt  with  swords,  and  the  others 
with  naked  swords  waving  aloft,  and  each  bearing  two  casting- 
spears  in  his  left  hand. 

Then  came  a man  of  middle  age,  broad-shouldered,  yellow- 
haired, blue-eyed,  of  wide  and  ruddy  countenance,  and  after  him 
a goodly  company ; and  again  great  was  the  shout  that  went  up 
to  the  heavens ; for  he  said  : 

^ Scrivener,  write  down  that  Hound-under-Greenbury,  from 
amongst  the  dwellers  in  the  hills  where  the  sheep  feed,  leadeth  the 
men  who  go  under  the  banner  of  Greenbury,  to  the  tale  of  an 
hundred  and  four  score.’ 

Therewith  he  passed  on,  and  his  men  followed,  stout,  stark, 

236 


and  merry-faced,  girt  with  swords,  and  bearing  over  their  shoul- 
ders long-staved  axes,  and  spears  not  so  long  as  those  which 
the  Dalesmen  bore  ; and  they  had  but  a half  score  of  arrow-shot 
with  them. 

Next  came  a young  man,  blue-eyed  also,  with  hair  the  colour 
of  flax  on  the  distaff,  broad-faced  and  short-nosed,  low  of  stature, 
but  very  strong-built,  who  cried  out  in  a loud,  cheerful  voice  : 

‘ I am  Strongitharm  of  the  Shepherds,  and  these  valiant  men 
are  of  the  Fleece  and  the  Thorn  blended  together,  for  so  they  would 
have  it ; and  their  tale  is  one  hundred  and  two  score  and  ten.’ 

Then  the  men  of  those  kindreds  went  past  merry  and  shouting, 
and  they  were  clad  and  weaponed  like  to  them  of  Greenbury,  but 
had  with  them  a score  of  bowmen.  And  all  these  Shepherd-folk 
wore  over  their  hauberks  white  woollen  surcoats  broidered  with 
green  and  red. 

Now  again  uprose  the  cry,  and  there  stood  before  the  War- 
leader  a very  tall  man  of  fifty  winters,  dark-faced  and  grey-eyed, 
and  he  spake  slowly  and  somewhat  softly,  and  said  : 

‘ War-leader,  this  is  Red-wolf  of  the  Woodlanders  leading  the 
men  who  go  under  the  sign  of  the  War-shaft,  to  the  number  of 
an  hundred  and  two.’ 

Then  he  passed  on,  and  his  men  after  him,  tall,  lean,  and  silent 
amidst  the  shouting.  All  these  men  bare  bows,  for  they  were 
keen  hunters ; each  had  at  his  girdle  a little  axe  and  a wood- 
knife,  and  some  had  long  swords  withal.  They  wore,  everyone 
of  the  carles,  short  green  surcoats  over  their  coats  of  fence  ; but 
amongst  them  were  three  women  who  bore  like  weapons  to  the 
men,  but  were  clad  in  red  kirtles  under  their  hauberks,  which 
were  of  good  ring-mail  gleaming  over  them  from  throat  to  knee. 

Last  came  another  tall  man,  but  young,  of  twenty-five  winters, 
and  spake : 

‘ Scrivener,  I am  Bears-bane  of  the  Woodlanders,  and  these 
that  come  after  me  wend  under  the  sign  of  the  Spear,  and  they  are 
of  the  tale  of  one  hundred  and  seven.’ 

237 


Now  go  by 
the  Fleece, 
the  Thom, 
the  War- 
shaft,  and 
the  Spear. 


The  tale  of 
the  Fighting- 
men. 


And  he  passed  by  at  once,  and  his  men  followed  him,  clad  and 
weaponed  no  otherwise  than  they  of  the  War-shaft,  and  with 
them  were  two  women. 

Now  went  all  those  companies  back  to  their  banners,  and  stood 
there  ; and  there  arose  among  the  bystanders  much  talk  concern- 
ing the  Weapon-show,  and  who  were  the  best  arrayed  of  the 
Houses.  And  of  the  old  men,  some  spake  of  past  weapon-shows 
which  they  had  seen  in  their  youth,  and  they  set  them  beside  this 
one,  and  praised  and  blamed.  So  it  went  on  a little  while  till 
the  horns  blew  again,  and  once  more  there  was  silence.  Then 
arose  Face-of-god  and  said  : 

‘ Men  of  Burgdale,  and  ye  Shepherd-folk,  and  ye  of  the 
Woodland,  now  shall  ye  wot  how  many  weaponed  men  we  may 
bring  together  for  this  war.  Scrivener,  arise  and  give  forth  the 
tale  of  the  companies,  as  they  have  been  told  unto  you.’ 

Then  the  Scrivener  stood  up  on  the  turf-bench  beside  Face-of- 
god,  and  spake  in  a loud  voice,  reading  from  his  scroll : 

‘ Of  the  Men  of  Burgdale  there  have  passed  by  me  nine  hun- 
dreds and  six ; of  the  Shepherds  three  hundreds  and  eight  and  ten ; 
and  of  the  Woodlanders  two  hundreds  and  nine  ; so  that  all  told 
our  men  are  fourteen  hundreds  and  thirty  and  three.’ 

Now  in  those  days  men  reckoned  by  long  hundreds,  so  that 
the  whole  tale  of  the  host  was  one  thousand,  five  hundred,  and 
four  score  and  one,  telling  the  tale  in  short  hundreds. 

When  the  tale  had  been  given  forth  and  heard,  men  shouted 
again,  and  they  rejoiced  that  they  were  so  many.  For  it  exceeded 
the  reckoning  which  the  Alderman  had  given  out  at  the  Gate- 
thing.  But  Face-of-god  said  : 

‘ Neighbours,  we  have  held  our  Weapon-show  ; but  now  hold 
you  ready,  each  man,  for  the  Hosting  toward  very  battle ; for 
belike  within  seven  days  shall  the  leaders  of  hundreds  and  twenties 
summon  you  to  be  ready  in  arms  to  take  whatso  fortune  may  be- 
fall. Now  is  sundered  the  Weapon-show.  Be  ye  as  merry  to- 
day as  your  hearts  bid  you  to  be.’ 


Therewith  he  came  down  from  his  seat  with  the  Alderman  and 
the  Wardens,  and  they  mingled  with  the  good  folk  of  the  Dale 
and  the  Shepherds  and  the  Woodlanders,  and  merry  was  their 
converse  there.  It  yet  lacked  an  hour  of  noon  ; so  presently  they 
fell  to  and  feasted  in  the  green  meadow,  drinking  from  wain  to 
wain  and  from  tent  to  tent ; and  thereafter  they  played  and 
sported  in  the  meads,  shooting  at  the  butts  and  wrestling,  and 
trying  other  masteries.  Then  they  fell  to  dancing  one  and  all, 
and  so  at  last  to  supper  on  the  green  grass  in  great  merriment. 
Nor  might  you  have  known  from  the  demeanour  of  any  that  any 
threat  of  evil  overhung  the  Dale.  Nay,  so  glad  were  they,  and 
so  friendly,  that  you  might  rather  have  deemed  that  this  was  the 
land  whereof  tales  tell,  wherein  people  die  not,  but  live  for  ever, 
without  growing  any  older  than  when  they  first  come  thither, 
unless  they  be  born  into  the  land  itself,  and  then  they  grow  into 
fair  manhood,  and  so  abide.  In  sooth,  both  the  land  and  the  folk 
were  fair  enough  to  be  that  land  and  the  folk  thereof. 

But  a little  after  sunset  they  sundered,  and  some  fared  home  ; 
but  many  of  them  abode  in  the  tents  and  tilted  wains,  because 
the  morrow  was  the  first  day  of  the  Spring  Market  : and  already 
were  some  of  the  Westland  chapmen  come ; yea,  two  of  them 
were  with  the  bystanders  in  the  meadow ; and  more  were  looked 
for  ere  the  night  was  far  spent. 


CHAPTER  XXXII.  THE  MEN  OF  SHADOWY  VALE  COME 
TO  THE  SPRING  MARKET  AT  BURGSTEAD. 

ON  the  morrow  betimes  in  the  morning  the  Westland  chap- 
men, who  were  now  all  come,  went  out  from  the  House 
of  the  Face,  where  they  were  ever  wont  to  be  lodged,  and 
set  up  their  booths  adown  the  street  betwixt  gate  and  bridge. 
Gay  was  the  show  ; for  the  booths  were  tilted  over  with  painted 
cloths,  and  the  merchants  themselves  were  clad  in  long  gowns  of 

239 


TheWeapon- 
show  sun- 
dereth. 


The  Chap- 
men and 
their  wares. 


fine  cloth ; scarlet,  and  blue,  and  white,  and  green,  and  black, 
with  broidered  welts  of  gold  and  silver ; and  their  knaves  were 
gaily  attired  in  short  coats  of  divers  hues,  with  silver  rings  about 
their  arms,  and  short  swords  girt  to  their  sides.  People  began 
to  gather  about  these  chapmen  at  once  when  they  fell  to  opening 
their  bales  and  their  packs,  and  unloading  their  wains.  There 
had  they  iron,  both  in  pigs  and  forged  scrap  and  nails ; steel 
they  had,  and  silver,  both  in  ingots  and  vessel ; pearls  from  over 
sea  ; cinnabar  and  other  colours  for  staining,  such  as  were  not  in 
the  mountains  : madder  from  the  marshes,  and  purple  of  the  sea, 
and  scarlet  grain  from  the  holm-oaks  by  its  edge,  and  woad  from 
the  deep  clayey  fields  of  the  plain  ; silken  thread  also  from  the 
outer  ocean,  and  rare  webs  of  silk,  and  jars  of  olive  oil,  and  fine 
pottery,  and  scented  woods,  and  sugar  of  the  cane.  But  gold  they 
had  none  with  them,  for  that  they  took  there ; and  for  weapons, 
save  a few  silver-gilt  toys,  they  had  no  market. 

So  presently  they  fell  to  chaffer  ; for  the  carles  brought  them 
little  bags  of  the  river-borne  gold,  so  that  the  weights  and  scales 
were  at  work  ; others  had  with  them  scrolls  and  tallies  to  tell  the 
number  of  the  beasts  which  they  had  to  sell,  and  the  chapmen 
gave  them  wares  therefor  without  beholding  the  beasts  ; for  they 
wotted  that  the  Dalesmen  lied  not  in  chaffer.  While  the  day 
was  yet  young  withal  came  the  Dalesmen  from  the  mid  and 
nether  Dale  with  their  wares  and  set  up  their  booths ; and  they 
had  with  them  flasks  and  kegs  of  the  wine  which  they  had  to  sell ; 
and  bales  of  the  good  winter-woven  cloth,  some  grey,  some  dyed, 
and  pieces  of  fine  linen ; and  blades  of  swords,  and  knives,  and 
axes  of  such  fashion  as  the  Westland  men  used;  and  golden 
cups  and  chains,  and  fair  rings  set  with  mountain-blue  stones, 
and  copper  bowls,  and  vessels  gilt  and  parcel-gilt,  and  mountain- 
blue  for  staining.  There  were  men  of  the  Shepherds  also  with 
such  fleeces  as  they  could  spare  from  the  daily  chaffer  with  the 
neighbours.  And  of  the  Woodlanders  were  four  carles  and  a 
woman  with  peltries  and  dressed  deer-skins,  and  a few  pieces 

240 


of  well-carven  wood-work  for  bedsteads  and  chairs  and  such  The  market 
like.  openeth. 

Soon  was  the  Burg  thronged  with  folk  in  all  its  open  places,  and 
all  were  eager  and  merry,  and  it  could  not  have  been  told  from 
their  demeanour  and  countenance  that  the  shadow  of  a grievous 
trouble  hung  over  them.  True  it  was  that  every  man  of  the 
Dale  and  the  neighbours  was  girt  with  his  sword,  or  bore  spear 
or  axe  or  other  weapon  in  his  hand,  and  that  most  had  their 
bucklers  at  their  backs  and  their  helms  on  their  heads ; but  this 
was  ever  their  custom  at  all  meetings  of  men,  not  because  they 
dreaded  war  or  were  fain  of  strife,  but  in  token  that  they  were 
free  men,  from  whom  none  should  take  the  weapons  without  battle. 

Such  were  the  folk  of  the  land  : as  for  the  chapmen,  they  were 
well-spoken  and  courteous,  and  blithe  with  the  folk,  as  they  well 
might  be,  for  they  had  good  pennyworths  of  them  ; yet  they  dealt 
with  them  without  using  measureless  lying,  as  behoved  folk  deal- 
ing with  simple  and  proud  people ; and  many  was  the  tale  they 
told  of  the  tidings  of  the  Cities  and  the  Plain. 

There  amongst  the  throng  was  the  Bride  in  her  maiden’s 
attire,  but  girt  with  the  sword,  going  from  booth  to  booth  with 
her  guests  of  the  Runaways,  and  doing  those  poor  people  what 
pleasure  she  might,  and  giving  them  gifts  from  the  goods  there, 
such  as  they  set  their  hearts  on.  And  the  more  part  of  the  Run- 
awa}^s  were  about  among  the  people  of  the  Fair;  but  Dallach, 
being  still  weak,  sat  on  a bench  by  the  door  of  the  House  of  the 
Face  looking  on  well-pleased  at  all  the  stir  of  folk. 

Hall-face  was  gone  on  the  woodland  ward ; while  Face-of- 
god  went  among  the  folk  in  his  most  glorious  attire  ; but  he  soon 
betook  him  to  the  place  of  meeting  without  the  Gate,  where 
Stone-face  and  some  of  the  elders  were  sitting  along  with  the 
Alderman,  beside  whom  sat  the  head  man  of  the  merchants,  clad 
in  a gown  of  fine  scarlet  embroidered  with  the  best  work  of  the 
Dale,  with  a golden  chaplet  on  his  head,  and  a good  sword, 
golden-hilted,  by  his  side,  all  which  the  Alderman  had  given  to 

241  I I 


The  cniets  sit  him  that  morning.  These  chiefs  were  talking  together  concerning 
in  the  Gate  the  tidings  of  the  Plain,  and  many  a tale  the  guest  told  to  the 

and  talk.  Dalesmen,  some  true,  some  false.  For  there  had  been  battles 

down  there,  and  the  fall  of  kings,  and  destruction  of  people,  as 
oft  befalleth  in  the  guileful  Cities.  He  told  them  also,  in  answer 
to  their  story  of  the  Dusky  Men,  of  how  men  even  such-like,  but 
riding  on  horses,  or  drawn  in  wains,  an  host  not  to  be  numbered, 
had  erewhile  overthrown  the  hosts  of  the  Cities  of  the  Plain,  and 
had  wrought  evils  scarce  to  be  told  of ; and  how  they  had  piled  up 
the  skulls  of  slaughtered  folk  into  great  hills  beside  the  city-gates, 
so  that  the  sun  might  no  longer  shine  into  the  streets;  and  how 
because  of  the  death  and  the  rapine,  grass  had  grown  in  the 
kings’  chambers,  and  the  wolves  had  chased  deer  in  the  Temples 
of  the  Gods. 

‘ But,’  quoth  he,  ‘ I know  you,  bold  tillers  of  the  soil,  valiant 
scourers  of  the  Wild-wood,  that  the  worst  that  can  befall  you  will 
be  to  die  under  shield,  and  that  ye  shall  suffer  no  torment  of  the 
thrall.  May  the  undying  Gods  bless  the  threshold  of  this  Gate, 
and  oft  may  I come  hither  to  taste  of  your  kindness  ! May  your 
race,  the  uncorrupt,  increase  and  multiply,  till  your  valiant  men 
and  clean  maidens  make  the  bitter  sweet  and  purify  the  earth  ! ’ 
He  spake  smooth-tongued  and  smiling,  handling  the  while  the 
folds  of  his  fine  scarlet  gown,  and  belike  he  meant  a full  half  of 
what  he  said ; for  he  was  a man  very  eloquent  of  speech,  and  had 
spoken  with  kings,  uncowed  and  pleased  with  his  speaking ; 
and  for  that  cause  and  his  riches  had  he  been  made  chief  of  the 
chapmen.  As  he  spake  the  heart  of  Face-of-god  swelled  within 
him,  and  his  cheek  flushed;  but  Iron-face  sat  up  straight  and  proud, 
and  a light  smile  played  about  his  face,  as  he  said  gravely  : 

‘ Friend  of  the  Westland,  I thank  thee  for  the  blessing  and  the 
kind  word.  Such  as  we  are,  we  are  ; nor  do  I deem  that  the  very 
Gods  shall  change  us.  And  if  they  will  be  our  friends,  it  is  well ; 
for  we  desire  nought  of  them  save  their  friendship ; and  if  they 
will  be  our  foes,  that  also  shall  we  bear ; nor  will  we  curse  them  for 

242 


doing  that  which  their  lives  bid  them  to  do.  What  sayest  thou,  They  hear  a 
Face-of-god,  my  son  ? ’ horn  winded 

‘Yea,  father,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘I  say  that  the  very  Gods, 
though  they  slay  me,  cannot  unmake  my  life  that  has  been.  If 
they  do  deeds,  yet  shall  we  also  do.’ 

The  Outlander  smiled  as  they  spake,  and  bowed  his  head  to 
Iron-face  and  Face-of-god,  and  wondered  at  their  pride  of  heart, 
marvelling  what  they  would  say  to  the  great  men  of  the  Cities  if 
they  should  meet  them. 

But  as  they  sat  a-talking,  there  came  two  men  running  to  them 
from  the  Portway,  their  weapons  all  clattering  upon  them,  and 
they  heard  withal  the  sound  of  a horn  winded  not  far  off  very  loud 
and  clear ; and  the  Chapman’s  cheek  paled  : for  in  sooth  he 
doubted  that  war  was  at  hand,  after  all  he  had  heard  of  the 
Dalesmen’s  dealings  with  the  Dusky  Men.  And  all  battle  was 
loathsome  to  him,  nor  for  all  the  gain  of  his  chaffer  had  he  come 
into  the  Dale,  had  he  known  that  war  was  looked  for. 

But  the  chiefs  of  the  Dalesmen  stirred  not,  nor  changed  coun- 
tenance ; and  some  of  the  goodmen  who  were  in  the  street  nigh 
the  Gate  came  forth  to  see  what  was  toward;:?  for  they  also  had 
heard  the  voice  of  the  horn. 

Then  one  of  those  messengers  came  up  breathless,  and  stood 
before  the  chiefs,  and  said  : 

‘ New  tidings,  Alderman ; here  be  weaponed  strangers  come 
into  the  Dale  ? ’ 

The  Alderman  smiled  on  him  and  said  : ‘Yea,  son,  and  are 
they  a great  host  of  men  ? ’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  the  man,  ‘ not  above  a score  as  I deem,  and  there 
is  a woman  with  them.’ 

‘ Then  shall  we  abide  them  here,’  said  the  Alderman,  ‘ and 
thou  mightest  have  saved  thy  breath,  and  suffered  them  to  bring 
tidings  of  themselves  ; since  they  may  scarce  bring  us  war.  For 
no  man  desireth  certain  and  present  death ; and  that  is  all  that 
such  a band  may  win  at  our  hands  in  battle  to-day  ; and  all  who 

243 


Strangers 
come  to  the 
Gate. 


come  in  peace  are  welcome  to  us.  What  like  are  they  to  be- 
hold ? ’ 

Said  the  man  : ‘ They  are  tall  men  gloriously  attired,  so  that 
they  seem  like  kinsmen  of  the  Gods ; and  they  bear  flowering 
boughs  in  their  hands.’ 

The  Alderman  laughed,  and  said  : ‘ If  they  be  Gods  they  are 
welcome  indeed  ; and  they  shall  grow  the  wiser  for  their  coming ; 
for  they  shall  learn  how  guest-fain  the  Burgdale  men  ma}^  be. 
But  if,  as  I deem,  they  be  like  unto  us,  and  but  the  children  of 
the  Gods,  then  are  they  as  welcome,  and  it  may  be  more  so,  and 
our  greeting  to  them  shall  be  as  their  greeting  to  us  would  be.’ 
Even  as  he  spake  the  horn  was  winded  nearer  yet,  and  more 
loudly,  and  folk  came  pouring  out  of  the  Gate  to  learn  the  tidings. 
Presently  the  strangers  came  from  off  the  Portway  into  the  space 
before  the  Gate ; and  their  leader  was  a tall  and  goodly  man  of  some 
thirty  winters,  in  glorious  array,  helm  on  head  and  sword  by  side, 
his  surcoat  green  and  flowery  like  the  spring  meads.  In  his  right 
hand  he  held  a branch  of  the  blossomed  black-thorn  (for  some 
was  yet  in  blossom),  and  his  left  had  hold  of  the  hand  of  an  ex- 
ceeding fair  woman  who  went  beside  him  : behind  him  was  a 
score  of  weaponed  men  in  goodly  attire,  some  bearing  bows,  some 
long  spears,  but  each  bearing  a flowering  bough  in  hand. 

The  tall  man  stopped  in  the  midst  of  the  space,  and  the  Aider- 
man  and  they  with  him  stirred  not ; though,  as  for  Face-of-god, 
it  was  to  him  as  if  summer  had  come  suddenly  into  the  midst  of 
winter,  and  for  the  very  sweetness  of  delight  his  face  grew  pale. 
Then  the  new-comer  drew  nigh  to  the  Alderman  and  said  : 

‘ Hail  to  the  Gate  and  the  men  of  the  Gate  ! Hail  to  the  kin- 
dred of  the  children  of  the  Gods  ! ’ 

But  the  Alderman  stood  up  and  spake  : ‘ And  hail  to  thee, 

tall  man  ! Fair  greeting  to  thee  and  thy  company ! Wilt  thou 
name  thyself  with  thine  own  name,  or  shall  I call  thee  nought 
save  Guest?  Welcome  art  thou,  by  whatsoever  name  thou  w\]^ 
be  called.  Here  may’st  thou  and  thy  folk  abide  as  long  as  ye  will. 

244 


♦ 


Said  the  new-comer  : ‘ Thanks  have  thou  for  thy  greeting  Folk-might 

and  for  thy  bidding ! And  that  bidding  shall  we  take,  what-  would  give  up 
soever  may  come  of  it ; for  we  are  minded  to  abide  with  thee  for  sword, 
a while.  But  know  thou,  O Alderman  of  the  Dalesmen,  that  I 
am  not  sackless  toward  thee  and  thine.  My  name  is  Folk-might 
of  the  Children  of  the  Wolf,  and  this  woman  is  the  Sun-beam, 
my  sister,  and  these  behind  me  are  of  my  kindred,  and  are  well 
beloved  and  trusty.  We  are  no  evil  men  or  wrong-doers ; yet 
have  we  been  driven  into  sore  straits,  wherein  men  must  needs 
at  whiles  do  deeds  that  make  their  friends  few  and  their  foes 
many.  So  it  may  be  that  I am  thy  foeman.  Yet,  if  thou 
doubtest  of  me  that  I shall  be  a baneful  guest,  thou  shalt  have 
our  weapons  of  us,  and  then  mayest  thou  do  thy  will  upon  us 
without  dread  ; and  here  first  of  all  is  my  sword  ! ’ 

Therewith  he  cast  down  the  flowering  branch  he  was  bearing, 
and  pulled  his  sword  from  out  his  sheath,  and  took  it  by  the  point, 
and  held  out  the  hilt  to  Iron-face. 

But  the  Alderman  smiled  kindly  on  him  and  said  : 

‘ The  blade  is  a good  one,  and  I say  it  who  know  the  craft  of 
sword-forging  ; but  I need  it  not,  for  thou  seest  I have  a sword 
by  my  side.  Keep  your  weapons,  one  and  all ; for  ye  have  come 
amongst  many  and  those  no  weaklings : and  if  so  be  that  thy  guilt 
against  us  is  so  great  that  we  must  needs  fall  on  you,  ye  will 
need  all  your  war-gear.  But  hereof  is  no  need  to  speak  till  the 
time  of  the  Folk-mote,  which  will  be  holdenin  three  days’  wear- 
ing ; so  let  us  forbear  this  matter  till  then ; for  I deem  we  shall 
have  enough  to  say  of  other  matters.  Now,  Folk-might,  sit  down 
beside  me,  and  thou  also.  Sun-beam,  fairest  of  women.’ 

Therewith  he  looked  into  her  face  and  reddened,  and  said  : 

‘ Yet  belike  thou  hast  a word  of  greeting  for  my  son,  Face-of- 
god,  unless  it  be  so  that  ye  have  not  seen  him  before  ? ’ 

Then  Face-of-god  came  forward,  and  took  Folk-might  by  the 
hand  and  kissed  him  ; and  he  stood  before  the  Sun-beam  and 
took  her  hand,  and  the  world  waxed  a wonder  to  him  as  he  kissed 

245 


Bow-may  her  cheeks  ; and  in  no  wise  did  she  change  countenance,  save  that 

speaketh.  her  eyes  softened,  and  she  gazed  at  him  full  kindly  from  the  happi- 

ness of  her  soul. 

Then  Face-of-god  said:  ‘Welcome,  Guests,  who  erewhile 
guested  me  so  well : nowbeginneththe  dayof  your  well-doing  to  the 
men  of  Burgdale ; th  erefore  will  we  do  to  you  as  well  as  we  may.’ 
Then  Folk-might  and  the  Sun-beam  sat  them  down  with  the 
chieftains,  one  on  either  side  of  the  Alderman,  but  Face-of-god 
passed  forth  to  the  others,  and  greeted  them  one  by  one  : of  them 
was  Wood-father  and  his  three  sons,  and  Bow-may ; and  they 
rejoiced  exceedingly  to  see  him,  and  Bow-may  said  : 

‘ Now  it  gladdens  my  heart  to  look  upon  thee  alive  and  thriving, 
and  to  remember  that  day  last  winter  when  I met  thee  on  the  snow, 
and  turned  thee  back  from  the  perilous  path  to  thy  pleasure, 
which  the  Dusky  Men  were  besetting,  of  whom  thou  knewest 
nought.  Yea,  it  was  merry  that  tide ; but  this  is  better.  Nay, 
friend,’  she  said,  ‘ it  availeth  thee  nought  to  strive  to  look  out 
of  the  back  of  thine  head  ; let  it  be  enough  to  thee  that  she  is 
there.  Thou  art  now  become  a great  chieftain,  and  she  is  no 
less ; and  this  is  a meeting  of  chieftains,  and  the  folk  are  look- 
ing on  and  expecting  demeanour  of  them  as  of  the  Gods  ; and 
she  is  not  to  be  dealt  with  as  if  she  were  the  daughter  of  some 
little  goodman  with  v/hom  one  hath  made  tryst  in  the  meadows. 
There  ! hearken  to  me  for  a while ; at  least  till  I tell  thee  that 
thou  seemest  to  me  to  hold  thine  head  higher  than  when  last  I 
saw  thee  ; though  that  is  no  long  time  either.  Hast  thou  been 
in  battle  again  since  that  day  ? ’ 

‘ Nay,’  he  said,  ‘ I have  stricken  no  stroke  since  I slew  two 
felons  within  the  same  hour  that  we  parted.  And  thou,  sister, 
what  hast  thou  done  ? ’ 

She  said  : ‘ The  grey  goose  hath  been  on  the  wing  thrice  since 
that,  bearing  on  it  the  bane  of  evil  things.’ 

Then  said  Wood-wise  : ‘ Kinswoman,  tell  him  of  that  battle, 
since  thou  art  deft  with  thy  tongue.’ 

246 


She  said  : ‘ Weary  on  battles  ! it  is  nought  save  this  : twelve 
days  agone  needs  must  every  fighting-man  of  the  Wolf,  carle  or 
queen,  wend  away  from  Shadowy  Vale,  while  those  unmeet  for 
battle  we  hid  away  in  the  caves  at  the  nether  end  of  the  Dale  : 
but  Sun-beam  would  not  endure  that  night,  and  fared  with  us, 
though  she  handled  no  weapon.  All  this  we  had  to  do  because 
we  had  learned  that  a great  company  of  the  Dusky  Men  were 
over-nigh  to  our  Dale,  and  needs  must  we  fall  upon  them,  lest 
they  should  learn  too  much,  and  spread  the  story.  Well,  so  wise 
was  Folk-might  that  we  came  on  them  unawares  by  night  and 
cloud  at  the  edge  of  the  Pine-wood,  and  but  one  of  our  men  was 
slain,  and  of  them  not  one  escaped  ; and  when  the  fight  was  over 
we  counted  four  score  and  ten  of  their  arm-rings.’ 

He  said  : ‘ Did  that  or  aught  else  come  of  our  meeting  with 
them  that  morning  ? ’ 

* Nay,’  she  said,  ‘ nought  came  of  it : those  we  slew  were  but 
a straying  band.  Nay,  the  four  score  and  ten  slain  in  the  Pine- 
wood  knew  not  of  Shadowy  Vale  belike,  and  had  no  intent  for 
it  : they  were  but  scouring  the  wood  seeking  their  warriors  that 
had  gone  out  from  Silver-dale  and  came  not  aback.’ 

‘ Thou  art  wise  in  war,  Bow-may,’  said  Face-of-god,  and  he 
smiled  withal. 

Bow-may  reddened  and  said  : ‘ Friend  Gold^mane,  dost  thou 
perchance  deem  that  there  is  aught  ill  in  my  warring  ? And  the 
Sun-beam,  she  naysayeth  the  bearing  of  weapons;  though  I deem 
that  she  hath  little  fear  of  them  when  they  come  her  way.’ 

Said  Face-of-god  : ‘ Nay,  I deem  no  ill  of  it,  but  much  good. 
For  I suppose  that  thou  hast  learned  overmuch  of  the  wont  of 
the  Dusky  Men,  and  hast  seen  their  thralls  ? ’ 

She  knitted  her  brows,  and  all  the  merriment  went  out  of  her 
face  at  that  word,  and  she  answered  : ‘Yea,  thou  hast  it ; for  I 
have  both  seen  their  thralls  and  been  in  the  Dale  of  thralldom  ; 
and  how  then  can  I do  less  than  I do  ? But  for  thee,  I perceive 
that  thou  hast  been  nigh  unto  our  foes  and  hast  fallen  in  with 

247 


She  telleth 
of  another 
battle. 


Face-of-god 
would  lead 
the  Guests 
through 
the  Gate. 


their  thralls  ; and  that  is  well ; for  whatso  tales  we  had  told  thee 
thereof  it  is  like  thou  wouldst  not  have  trowed  in,  as  now  thou 
must  do,  since  thou  thyself  hast  seen  these  poor  folk.  But  now 
I will  tell  thee,  Gold-mane,  that  my  soul  is  sick  of  these  comings 
and  goings  for  the  slaughter  of  a few  wretches ; and  I long  for 
the  Great  Day  of  Battle,  when  it  will  be  seen  whether  we  shall 
live  or  die ; and  though  I laugh  and  jest,  yet  doth  the  wearing 
of  the  da}’s  wear  me.’ 

He  looked  kindly  on  her  and  said  : ‘ I am  War-leader  of  this 
Folk,  and  trust  me  that  the  waiting-tide  shall  not  be  long ; where- 
fore now,  sister,  be  merry  to-da}%  for  that  is  but  meet  and  right ; 
and  cast  aside  thy  care,  for  presently  shalt  thou  behold  many  new 
friends.  But  now  meseemeth  overlong  have  ye  been  standing 
before  our  Gate,  and  it  is  time  that  ye  should  see  the  inside  of 
our  Burg  and  the  inside  of  our  House.’ 

Indeed  by  this  time  so  many  men  had  come  out  of  the  street 
that  the  place  before  the  Gate  was  all  thronged,  and  from  where 
he  stood  Face-of-god  could  scarce  see  his  father,  or  Folk-might 
and  the  Sun-beam  and  the  chieftains. 

So  he  took  Wood-father  by  the  hand,  and  close  behind  him 
came  Wood-wise  and  Bow-may,  and  he  cried  out  for  way  that 
he  might  speak  with  the  Alderman,  and  men  gave  way  to  them, 
and  he  led  those  new-comers  close  up  to  the  gate-seats  of  the 
Elders,  and  as  he  clove  the  press  smiling  and  bright-eyed  and 
happy,  all  gazed  on  him  ; but  the  Sun-beam,  who  was  sitting 
between  Iron-face  and  the  Westland  Chapman,  and  who  hereto- 
fore had  been  agaze  with  eyes  beholding  little,  past  whose  ears 
the  words  went  unheard,  and  whose  mind  wandered  into  thoughts 
of  things  unfashioned  yet,  when  she  beheld  him  close  to  her  again, 
then,  taken  unawares,  her  eyes  caressed  him,  and  she  turned  as 
red  as  a rose,  as  she  felt  all  the  sweetness  of  desire  go  forth  from 
her  to  meet  him.  So  that,  he  perceiving  it,  his  voice  was  the 
clearer  and  sweeter  for  the  inward  joy  he  felt,  as  he  said  : 

^ Alderman,  meseemeth  it  is  now  time  that  we  bring  our  Guests 

248 


into  the  House  of  our  Fathers ; for  since  they  are  in  warlike  array, 
and  we  are  no  longer  living  in  peace,  and  I am  now  War-leader 
of  the  Dale,  I deem  it  but  meet  that  I should  have  the  guesting 
of  them.  Moreover,  when  we  are  come  into  our  House,  I will 
bid  thee  look  into  thy  treasury,  that  thou  may’st  find  therein 
somewhat  which  it  may  pleasure  us  to  give  to  our  Guests.’ 

Said  Iron-face  : ‘ Thou  sayest  well,  son,  and  since  the  day  is 
now  worn  past  noon,  and  these  folk  are  but  just  come  from  the 
Waste,  therefore  such  as  we  have  of  meat  and  drink  abideth  them. 
And  surely  there  is  within  our  house  a coffer  which  belongeth  to 
thee  and  me  ; and  forsooth  I know  not  why  we  keep  the  treasures 
hoarded  therein,  save  that  it  be  for  this  cause  : that  if  we  were 
to  give  to  our  friends  that  which  we  ourselves  use  and  love,  which 
would  be  of  all  things  pleasant  to  us,  if  we  gave  them  such 
goods,  they  would  be  worn  and  worsened  by  our  use  of  them. 
For  this  reason,  therefore,  do  we  keep  fair  things  which  we  use 
not,  so  that  we  may  give  them  to  our  friends. 

‘Now,  Guests,  both  of  the  Waste  and  the  Westland,  since 
here  is  no  Gate-thing  or  meeting  of  the  Dale-wardens,  and  we 
sit  here  but  for  our  pleasure,  let  us  go  take  our  pleasure  within 
doors  for  a while,  if  it  seem  good  to  you.’ 

Therewith  he  arose,  and  the  folk  made  way  for  him  and  his 
Guests  ; and  Folk-might  went  on  the  right  hand  of  Iron-face,  and 
beside  him  went  the  Chapman,  who  looked  on  him  with  a half- 
smile, as  though  he  knew  somewhat  of  him.  But  on  the  other 
side  of  Iron-face  went  the  Sun-beam,  whose  hand  he  held,  and 
after  these  came  Face-of-god,  leading  in  the  rest  of  the  New- 
comers, who  yet  held  the  flowery  branches  in  their  hands. 

Now  so  much  had  Face-of-god  told  the  Dalesmen,  that  they 
deemed  they  all  knew  these  men  for  their  battle-fellows  of  whom 
they  had  heard  tell ; and  this  the  more  as  the  men  were  so  goodly 
and  manly  of  aspect,  especially  Folk-might,  so  that  they  seemed  as 
if  they  were  nigh  akin  to  the  Gods.  As  for  the  Sun-beam,  they 
knew  not  how  to  praise  her  beauty  enough,  but  they  said  that 

249  K K 


The  Aider- 
man  biddeth 
the  Guests  to 
enter  into  the 
town. 


The  Bride 
beholdeth  the 
Sun-beam. 


they  had  never  known  before  how  fair  the  Gods  might  be.  So 
they  raised  a great  shout  of  welcome  as  the  men  came  through 
the  Gate  into  the  Burg,  and  all  men  turned  their  backs  on  the 
booths,  so  eager  were  they  to  behold  closely  these  new  friends. 

But  as  the  Guests  went  from  the  Gate  to  the  House  of  the 
Face,  going  very  slowly  because  of  the  press,  there  in  the  front 
of  the  throng  stood  the  Bride  with  the  women  of  the  Runaways, 
whom  she  had  caused  to  be  clad  very  fairly  ; and  she  was  fain  to 
do  them  a pleasure  by  bringing  them  to  sight  of  these  new-comers, 
of  whom  she  had  not  heard  who  they  were,  though  she  had  heard 
the  cry  that  strangers  were  at  hand.  So  there  she  stood  smiling 
a little  with  the  pleasure  of  showing  a fair  sight  to  the  poor 
people,  as  folk  do  with  children.  But  when  she  saw  those  twain 
going  on  each  side  of  the  Alderman  she  knew  them  at  once  ; 
and  when  the  Sun-beam,  who  was  on  his  left  side,  passed  so  close 
to  her  that  she  could  see  the  very  smoothness  and  dainty  fashion 
of  her  skin,  then  was  she  astonied,  and  the  world  seemed  strange 
to  her,  and  till  they  were  gone  by,  and  for  a while  afterwards,  she 
knew  not  where  she  was  nor  what  she  did,  though  it  seemed  to 
her  as  if  she  still  saw  the  face  of  that  fair  woman  as  in  a picture. 

But  the  Sun-beam  had  noted  her  at  first,  even  amongst  the  fair 
women  of  Burgstead,  and  she  so  steady  and  bright  beside  the 
wandering  timorous  eyes  and  lowering  faces  of  the  thralls.  But 
suddenly,  as  eye  met  eye,  she  saw  her  face  change ; she  saw 
her  cheek  whiten,  her  eyes  stare,  and  her  lips  quiver,  and  she 
knew  at  once  who  it  was ; for  she  had  not  seen  her  before  as 
Folk-might  had.  Then  the  Sun-beam  cast  her  eyes  adown,  lest 
her  compassion  might  show  in  her  face,  and  be  a fresh  grief  to 
her  that  had  lost  the  wedding  and  the  love  ; and  so  she  passed  on. 

As  for  Folk-might,  he  had  seen  her  at  once  amongst  all  that 
folk  as  he  came  into  the  street,  and  in  sooth  he  was  looking  for 
her  ; and  when  he  saw  her  face  change,  as  the  sight  of  the  Sun- 
beam smote  upon  her  heart,  his  own  face  burned  with  shame  and 
anger,  and  he  looked  back  at  her  as  he  went  toward  the  House. 

250 


But  she  saw  him  not,  nor  noted  him  ; and  none  deemed  it  strange 
that  he  looked  long  on  the  Bride,  the  treasure  of  Burgstead.  But 
for  some  while  Folk-might  was  few-spoken  and  sharp-spoken 
amongst  the  chieftains  ; for  he  was  slow  to  master  his  longing  and 
his  wrath. 

So  when  all  the  Guests  had  entered  the  door  of  the  House  of 
the  Face,  the  Alderman  turned  back,  and,  standing  on  the 
threshold  of  his  House,  spake  unto  the  throng  : 

‘ Men  of  the  Dale,  and  ye  Outlanders  who  may  be  here,  know 
that  this  is  a happy  day ; for  hither  have  come  to  us  Guests,  men 
of  the  kindred  of  the  Gods,  and  they  are  even  those  of  whom 
Face-of-god  my  son  hath  told  you.  And  they  are  friends  of 
our  friends  and  foes  of  our  foes.  These  men  are  now  in  my 
House,  as  is  but  right ; but  when  they  come  forth  I look  to  you 
to  cherish  them  in  the  best  way  ye  know,  and  make  much  of  them, 
as  of  those  who  may  help  us  and  who  may  by  us  be  holpen.^ 

Therewith  he  went  in  again  and  into  the  Hall,  and  bade  show 
the  New-comers  to  the  dais;  and  wine  of  the  best,  and  meat  such 
as  was  to  hand,  was  set  before  them.  He  bade  men  also  get  ready 
high  feast  as  great  as  might  be  against  the  evening ; and  they 
did  his  bidding  straightway. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII.  THE  ALDERMAN  GIVES  GIFTS  TO 
THEM  OF  SHADOWY  VALE. 

IN  the  Hall  of  the  Face  Folk-might  sat  on  the  dais  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  Alderman,  and  the  Sun-beam  on  his  left  hand.  But 
Iron-face  also  had  beheld  the  Bride  how  her  face  changed,  and 
he  knew  the  cause,  and  was  grieved  and  angry  and  ashamed  there- 
of : also  he  bethought  him  how  this  stranger  was  sitting  in  the  very 
place  where  the  Bride  used  to  sit,  and  of  all  the  love,  as  of  a 
very  daughter,  that  he  had  had  for  her  ; howbeit  he  constrained 
himself  to  talk  courteously  and  kindly  both  to  Folk-might  and 

251 


The  Guests 
in  the  Hall 
of  the  Face.. 


The  Aider- 
man  is  for  the 
treasury. 


the  Sun-beam,  as  behoved  the  Chief  of  the  House  and  the  Aider- 
man  of  the  Dale.  Moreover,  he  was  not  a little  moved  by  the 
goodliness  and  wisdom  of  the  Sun-beam  and  the  manliness  of 
Folk-might,  who  was  the  most  chieftain-like  of  men. 

But  while  they  sat  there  Face-of-god  went  from  man  to  man 
of  the  Guests,  and  made  much  of  each,  but  especially  of  Wood- 
father  and  his  sons  and  Bow-may,  and  they  Icved  him,  and  praised 
him,  and  deemed  him  the  best  of  hall-mates.  Nor  might  the 
Sun-beam  altogether  refrain  her  from  looking  lovingly  on  him,  and 
it  could  be  seen  of  her  that  she  deemed  he  was  doing  well,  and 
like  a wise  leader  and  chieftain. 

So  wore  away  a while,  and  men  were  fulfilled  of  meat  and  drink ; 
so  then  the  Alderman  arose  and  spake,  and  said : 

‘ Is  it  not  so.  Guests,  that  ye  would  now  gladly  behold  our 
market,  and  the  goodly  wares  which  the  chapmen  have  brought 
us  from  the  Cities  ? ’ 

Then  most  men  cried  out  ‘ Yea,  yea ! ’ and  Iron-face  said : 

‘ Then  shall  ye  go,  nor  be  holden  by  me  from  your  pleasure. 
And  ye  kinsmen  who  are  the  most  guest-fain  and  the  wisest,  go  ye 
with  our  friends,  and  make  all  things  easy  and  happy  for  them. 
But  first  of  all,  Guests,  I were  well  pleased  if  ye  would  take 
some  small  matters  out  of  our  abundance ; for  it  were  well  that 
ye  see  them  ere  ye  stand  before  the  chapmen’s  booths,  lest  ye 
chaffer  with  them  for  what  ye  have  already.’ 

They  all  praised  his  bounty  and  thanked  him  for  his  goodwill : 
so  he  arose  to  go  to  his  treasury,  and  bade  certain  of  his  folk 
go  along  with  him  to  bear  in  the  gifts.  But  ere  he  had  taken 
three  steps  down  the  hall,  Face-of-god  prevented  him  and  said  : 

‘ Kinsman,  if  thou  hast  anywhere  a hauberk  somewhat  better 
than  folk  are  wont  to  bear,  such  as  thine  own  hand  fashioneth, 
and  a sword  of  the  like  stuff,  I would  have  thee  give  them,  the 
sword  to  my  brother-in-arms  Wood- wise  here,  and  the  war-coat 
to  my  sister  Bow-may,  who  shooteth  so  well  in  the  bow  that  none 
may  shoot  closer,  and  very  few  as  close ; and  her  shaft  it  was 

252 


that  delivered  me  when  my  skull  was  amongst  the  axes  of  the  Gifts  given. 
Dusky  Men  : else  had  I not  been  here.’ 

Thereat  Bow-may  reddened  and  looked  down,  like  a scholar 
who  hath  been  over-praised  for  his  learning  and  diligence  ; but 
the  Alderman  smiled  on  her  and  said  : 

‘ I thank  thee,  son,  that  thou  hast  let  me  know  what  these  our 
two  friends  may  be  fain  of : and  as  for  this  damsel-at-arms,  it  is 
a little  thing  that  thou  askest  for  her,  and  we  might  have  found 
her  something  more  worthy  of  her  goodliness  ; yet  forsooth,  since 
we  are  all  bound  for  the  place  where  shafts  and  staves  shall  be 
good  cheap,  a greater  treasure  might  be  of  less  avail  to  her.’ 

Thereat  men  laughed,  and  the  Alderman  went  down  the  Hall 
with  those  bearers  of  gifts,  and  was  away  for  a space  while  they 
drank  and  made  merry  : but  presently  back  they  came  from 
the  treasury  bearing  loads  of  goodly  things  which  were  laid  on 
one  of  the  endlong  boards.  Then  began  the  gift-giving  : and 
first  he  gave  unto  Folk-might  six  golden  cups  marvellously 
fashioned,  the  work  of  four  generations  of  wrights  in  the  Dale, 
and  he  himself  had  wrought  the  last  two  thereof.  To  Sun-beam 
he  gave  a girdle  of  gold,  fashioned  with  great  mastery,  whereon 
were  images  of  the  Gods  and  the  Fathers,  and  warriors,  and  beasts 
of  the  field  and  fowls  of  the  air  ; and  as  he  girt  it  about  her  loins, 
he  said  in  a soft  voice  so  that  few  heard  : 

‘ Sun-beam,  thou  fair  woman,  time  has  been  when  thou  wert  to 
us  as  the  edge  of  the  poisonous  sword  or  the  midnight  torch  of  the 
murderer  ; but  now  I know  not  how  it  will  be,  or  if  the  grief  which 
thou  hast  given  me  will  ever  wear  out  or  not.  And  now  that  I 
have  beheld  thee,  I have  little  to  do  to  blame  my  son  ; for  indeed 
when  I look  on  thee  I cannot  deem  that  there  is  any  evil  in  thee. 

Yea,  however  it  may  be,  take  thou  this  gift  as  the  reward  of 
thine  exceeding  beauty.’ 

She  looked  on  him  with  kind  eyes,  and  said  meekly  : 

‘ Indeed,  i f I have  hurt  thee  unwittingly,  I grieve  to  have  hurt 
so  good  a man.  Hereafter  belike  we  may  talk  more  of  this,  but 

253 


Bow-may 
getteth  the 
hauberk. 


now  I will  but  say,  that  whereas  at  first  I needed  but  to  win  thy 
son’s  goodwill,  so  that  our  Folk  might  come  to  life  and  thriving 
again,  now  it  is  come  to  this,  that  he  holdeth  my  heart  in  his 
hand  and  may  do  what  he  will  with  it ; therefore  I pray  thee 
withhold  not  thy  love  either  from  him  or  from  me.’ 

He  looked  on  her  wondering,  and  said  : ‘ Thou  art  such  an 
one  as  might  make  the  old  man  young,  and  the  boy  grow  into 
manhood  suddenly ; and  thy  voice  is  as  sweet  as  the  voice  of  the 
song-birds  singing  in  the  dawn  of  early  summer  soundeth  to  him 
who  hath  been  sick  unto  death,  but  who  hath  escaped  it  and  is 
mending.  And  yet  I fear  thee.’ 

Therewith  he  kissed  her  hand  and  turned  unto  the  others,  and 
he  gave  unto  Bow-may  a hauberk  of  ring-mail  of  his  own  fashion- 
ing, a sure  defence  and  a wonderful  work,  and  the  collar  thereof 
was  done  with  gold  and  gems. 

But  he  said  to  her  : ‘ Fair  damsel-at-arms,  faithful  is  thy 
face,  and  the  fashion  of  thee  is  goodly  : now  art  thou  become 
one  of  the  best  of  our  friends,  and  this  is  little  enough  to  give 
thee ; yet  would  we  fain  ward  thy  body  against  the  foeman ; so 
grieve  us  not  by  gainsaying  us.’ 

And  Bow-may  was  exceeding  glad,  and  scarce  knew  how  to 
cease  handling  that  marvel  of  ring-mail. 

Then  to  Wood-wise  Iron-face  gave  a most  goodly  sword,  the 
blade  all  marked  with  dark  lines  like  the  stream  of  an  eddying 
river,  the  hilts  of  steel  and  gold  marvellously  wrought ; and  all 
the  work  of  a smith  who  had  dwelt  in  the  house  of  his  father’s 
father,  and  was  a great  warrior. 

Unto  Wood-father  he  gave  a very  goodly  helm  parcel-gilded ; 
and  to  his  sons  and  the  other  folk  fair  gifts  of  weapons  and  Jewels 
and  girdles  and  cups  and  other  good  things  ; so  that  their  hearts 
were  full  of  joy,  and  they  all  praised  his  open  hand. 

Then  some  of  the  best  and  merriest  of  the  kinsmen  of  the 
Face,  and  Face-of-god  with  them,  brought  the  Guests  out  into 
the  street  and  among  the  booths.  There  Face-of-god  beheld 

254 


the  Bride  again ; and  she  was  standing  by  the  booth  of  a chap- 
man and  dealing  with  him  for  a piece  of  goodly  silken  cloth  to 
be  a gown  for  one  of  her  guests,  and  she  was  talking  and  smiling 
as  she  chaffered  with  him,  as  her  wont  was ; for  she  was  ever 
very  friendly  of  demeanour  with  all  men.  But  he  noted  that  she 
was  yet  exceeding  pale,  and  he  was  right  sorry  thereof,  for  he 
loved  her  friendly ; yet  now  had  he  no  shame  for  all  that  had 
befallen,  when  he  bethought  him  of  the  Sun-beam  and  the  love 
she  had  for  him.  And  also  he  had  a deeming  that  the  Bride 
would  better  of  her  grief. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV.  THE  CHIEFTAINS  TAKE  COUNSEL  IN 
THE  HALL  OF  THE  FACE. 

Then  turned  Face-of-god  back  into  the  Hall,  and  saw 
where  Iron-face  sat  at  the  dais,  and  with  him  Folk- 
might  and  Stone-face  and  the  Elder  of  the  Dale-wardens, 
and  Sun-beam  withal ; so  he  went  soberly  up  to  the  board,  and 
sat  himself  down  thereat  beside  Stone-face,  over  against  Folk- 
might  and  his  father,  beside  whom  sat  the  Sun-beam  ; and  Folk- 
might  looked  on  him  gravely,  as  a man  powerful  and  trustworthy, 
yet  was  his  look  somewhat  sour. 

Then  the  Alderman  said  : ‘ My  son,  I said  not  to  thee  come 
back  presently,  because  I wotted  that  thou  wouldst  surely  do  so, 
knowing  that  we  have  much  to  speak  of.  For,  whatever  these 
thy  friends  may  have  done,  or  whatsoever  thou  hast  done  with 
them  to  grieve  us,  all  that  must  be  set  aside  at  this  present  time, 
since  the  matter  in  hand  is  to  save  the  Dale  and  its  folk.  What 
sayest  thou  hereon  ? Since,  young  as  thou  mayst  be,  thou  art 
our  War-leader,  and  doubtless  shalt  so  be  after  the  Folk-mote 
hath  been  holden.’ 

Face-of-god  answered  not  hastily : indeed,  as  he  sat  thinking 
for  a minute  or  two,  the  fair  spring  day  seemed  to  darken  about 

255 


F ace-of-god 
cometh  in  to 
the  Council. 


They  talk 
of  what  is 
toward. 


them  or  to  glare  into  the  light  of  flames  amidst  the  night-tide ; 
and  the  joyous  clamour  without  doors  seemed  to  grow  hoarse  and 
fearful  as  the  sound  of  wailing  and  shrieking.  But  he  spake 
firmly  and  simply  in  a clear  voice,  and  said ; 

^ There  can  be  no  two  words  concerning  what  we  have  to  aim 
at;  these  Dusky  Men  we  must  slay  everyone,  though  iVe  be 
fewer  than  they  be.’ 

Folk-might  smiled  and  nodded  his  head ; but  the  others  sat 
staring  down  the  hall  or  into  the  hangings. 

Then  spake  Folk-might : ‘ Thou  wert  a boy  methought  when 
I cast  my  spear  at  thee  last  autumn,  Face-of-god,  but  now  hast 
thou  grown  into  a man.  Now  tell  me,  what  deemest  thou  we 
must  do  to  slay  them  all  ? ’ 

Said  Face-of-god  : ‘Once  again  it  is  cl^r  that  we  must  fall 
upon  them  at  home  in  Rose-dale  and  Silvet^ale.’ 

Again  Folk-might  nodded  : but  Iron-face  said  : 

‘ Needeth  this  ? May  we  not  ward  the  Dale  and  send  many 
bands  into  the  wood  to  fall  upon  them  when  we  meet  them?  Yea, 
and  so  doing  these  our  guests  have  already  slain  many,  as  this 
valiant  man  hath  told  me  e’en  now.  Will  ye  not  slay  so  many 
at  last,  that  they  shall  learn  to  fear  us,  and  abide  at  home  and 
leave  us  at  peace  ? ’ 

But  Face-of-god  said : ‘ Meseemeth,  father,  that  this  is  not 
thy  rede,  and  that  thou  sayest  this  but  to  try  me  ; and  perchance 
ye  have  been  talking  about  me  when  I was  without  in  the  street 
e’en  now.  Even  if  it  might  be  that  we  should  thus  cow  these 
felons  into  abiding  at  home  and  tormenting  their  own  thralls  at 
their  ease,  yet  how  then  are  our  friends  of  the  Wolf  holpen  to 
their  own  again  ? And  I shall  tell  thee  that  I have  promised  to 
this  man  and  this  woman  that  I will  give  them  no  less  than  a 
man’s  help  in  this  matter.  Moreover,  I have  spoken  in  every 
house  of  the  Dale,  and  to  the  Shepherds  and  the  Woodlanders, 
and  there  is  no  man  amongst  them  but  will  follow  me  in  the 
quarrel.  Furthermore,  they  have  heard  of  the  thralldom  that  is 

256 


done  on  men  no  great  way  from  their  own  houses ; yea,  they  have 
seen  it ; and  they  remember  the  old  saw,  Grief  in  thy  neigh- 
bour’s hall  is  grief  in  thy  garth,”  and  sure  it  is,  father,  that  whether 
thou  or  I gainsay  them,  go  they  will  to  deliver  the  thralls  of  the 
Dusky  Men,  and  will  leave  us  alone  in  the  Dale.’ 

‘ This  is  no  less  than  sooth,’  said  the  Dale-warden,  ‘ never 
have  men  gone  forth  more  joyously  to  a merry-making  than  all 
men  of  us  shall  wend  to  this  war.’ 

‘ But,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘of  one  thing  ye  may  be  sure,  that 
these  men  will  not  abide  our  pleasure  till  we  cut  them  all  off  in 
scattered  bands,  nor  will  they  sit  deedless  at  home.  Nor  indeed 
may  they;  for  we  have  heard  from  their  thralls  that  they  look  to 
have  fresh  tribes  of  them  come  to  hand  to  eat  their  meat  and 
waste  their  servants,  and  these  and  they  must  find  new  abodes 
and  new  thralls  ; and  they  are  now  warned  by  the  overthrows 
and  slayings  that  they  have  had  at  our  hands  that  we  are  astir, 
and  they  will  not  delay  long,  but  will  fall  upon  us  with  all  their 
host ; it  might  even  be  to-day  or  to-morrow.’ 

Said  Folk-might : ‘ In  all  this  thou  sayest  sooth,  brother  of 
the  Dale ; and  to  cut  this  matter  short,  I will  tell  you  all,  that 
yesterday  we  had  with  us  a runaway  from  Silver-dale  (it  is  over- 
long  to  tell  how  we  fell  in  with  her;  for  it  was  a woman).  But 
she  told  us  that  this  very  moon  is  a new  tribe  come  into  the  Dale, 
six  long  hundreds  in  number,  and  twice  as  many  more  are  looked 
for  in  two  eights  of  days,  and  that  ere  this  moon  hath  waned,  that 
is,  in  twenty-four  days,  they  will  wend  their  ways  straight  for  Burg- 
dale,  for  they  know  the  ways  thereto.  So  I say  that  Face-of-god 
is  right  in  all  wise.  But  tell  me,  brother,  hast  thou  thought  of 
how  we  shall  come  upon  these  men  ? ’ 

‘ How  many  men  wilt  thou  lead  into  battle?  ’ said  Face-of-god. 
Folk-might  reddened,  and  said  : ‘ A few,  a few  ; maybe  two 
hundreds  all  told.’ 

‘ Yea,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘but  some  special  gain  wilt  thou  be 
to  us.’ 

257 


The  intent  of 
the  Dusky 
Men. 


L L 


They  talk  of 
the  two  Dales 
of  the 
Foemen. 


‘ So  I deem  at  least,’  said  Folk-might. 

Said  Face-of-god : ‘Good  is  that.  Now  have  we  held  our 
Weapon-show  in  the  Dale,  and  we  find  that  we  together  with 
you  be  sixteen  long  hundreds  of  men  ; and  the  tale  of  the  foemen 
that  be  now  in  Silver-dale,  new-comers  and  all,  shall  be  three 
thousands  or  thereabout,  and  in  Rose-dale  hard  on  a thousand.’ 

‘ Scarce  so  many,’  said  Folk-might ; ‘ some  of  the  felons  have 
died ; we  told  over  our  silver  arm-rings  yesterday,  and  the  tale  was 
three  hundred  and  eighty  and  six.  Besides,  they  were  never  so 
many  as  thou  deemest.’ 

‘ Well,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ yet  at  least  hey  shall  outnumber 
us  sorely.  We  may  scarce  leave  the  Dale  unguarded  when  our 
host  is  gone  ; therefore  I deem  that  we  shall  have  but  one  thousand 
of  men  for  our  onslaught  on  Silver-dale.’ 

‘ How  come  ye  to  that?’  said  Stone-face. 

Said  Face-of-god:  ‘Abide  a while,  fosterer!  Though  the  odds 
between  us  be  great,  it  is  not  to  be  hidden  that  I wot  how  ye  of 
the  Wolf  know  of  privy  passes  into  Silver-dale;  yea,  into  the  heart 
thereof ; and  this  is  the  special  gain  ye  have  to  give  us.  There- 
fore we,  the  thousand  men,  falling  on  the  foe  unawares,  shall  make 
a great  slaughter  of  them  ; and  if  the  murder  be  but  grim  enough, 
those  thralls  of  theirs  shall  fear  us  and  not  them,  as  already  they 
hate  them  and  not  us,  so  that  we  may  look  to  them  for  rooting  out 
these  sorry  weeds  after  the  overthrow.  And  what  with  one  thing,, 
what  with  another,  we  may  cherish  a good  hope  of  clearing  Silver- 
dale  at  one  stroke  with  the  said  thousand  men. 

‘ There  remaineth  Rose-dale,  which  will  be  easier  to  deal  with, 
because  the  Dusky  Men  therein  are  fewer  and  the  thralls  as  many : 
that  also  would  I fall  on  at  the  same  time  as  we  fall  on  Silver-dale 
with  the  men  that  are  left  over  from  the  Silver-dale  onslaught. 
Wherefore  my  rede  is,  that  we  gather  all  those  unmeet  for  battle 
in  the  field  into  this  Burg,  with  ten  tens  of  men  to  strengthen  them  ; 
which  shall  be  enough  for  them,  along  with  the  old  men,  and  lads, 
and  sturdy  women,  to  defend  themselves  till  help  comes,  if  aught 


of  evil  befall,  or  to  flee  into  the  mountains,  or  at  the  worst  to  die 
valiantly.  Then  let  the  other  five  hundreds  fare  up  to  Rose-dale, 
and  fall  on  the  Dusk}"  Men  therein  about  the  same  time,  but  not 
before  our  onslaught  on  Silver-dale  : thus  shall  hand  help  foot,  so 
that  stumbling  be  not  falling ; and  we  may  well  hope  that  our  rede 
shall  thrive.’ 

Then  was  he  silent,  and  the  Sun-beam  looked  upon  him  with 
gleaming  eyes  and  parted  lips,  waiting  eagerly  to  hear  what  Folk- 
might  would  say.  He  held  his  peace  a while,  drumming  on  the 
board  with  his  fingers,  and  none  else  spake  a word.  At  last 
be  said  : 

‘War-leader  of  Burgdale,  all  that  thou  hast  spoken  likes  me 
well,  and  even  so  must  it  be  done,  saving  that  parting  of  our  host 
and  sending  one  part  to  fall  upon  Rose-dale.  I say,  nay ; let  us 
put  all  our  might  into  that  one  stroke  on  Silver-dale,  and  then  we 
are  undone  indeed  if  we  fail ; but  so  shall  we  be  if  we  fail  any- 
wise ; but  if  we  win  Silver-dale,  then  shall  Rose-dale  lie  open 
before  us.’ 

‘ My  brother,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ thou  art  a tried  warrior,  and 
I but  a lad  : but  dost  thou  not  see  this,  that  whatever  we  do,  w’e 
shall  not  at  one  onslaught  slay  all  the  Dusky  Men  of  Silver-dale, 
and  those  that  flee  before  us  shall  betake  them  to  Rose-dale,  and 
tell  all  the  tale,  and  what  shall  hinder  them  then  from  falling  on 
Burgdale  (since  they  are  no  great  way  from  it)  after  they  have 
murdered  what  they  will  of  the  unhappy  people  under  their  hands?  ’ 

Said  Folk-might : ‘ I say  not  but  that  there  is  a risk  thereof, 
but  in  war  we  must  needs  run  such  risks,  and  all  should  be  risked 
rather  than  that  our  blow  on  Silver-dale  be  light.  For  we  be  the 
fewer ; and  if  the  foemen  have  time  to  call  that  to  mind,  then  are 
we  all  lost.’ 

Said  Stone-face : ‘Meseemeth,  War-leader, that  there  is  nought 
so  much  to  dread  in  leaving  Rose-dale  to  itself  for  a while  ; for 
not  only  may  we  follow  hard  on  the  fleers  if  they  flee  to  Rose-dale, 
and  be  there  no  long  time  after  them,  before  they  have  time  to  stir 

259 


They  hold 
rede  con- 
cerning the 
winning  of 
Rose-dale. 


Divers  redes,  their  host ; but  also  after  the  overthrow  we  shall  be  free  to  send 
men  back  to  Burgdale  by  way  of  Shadowy  Vale.  I deem  that 
herein  Folk-might  hath  the  right  of  it.’ 

‘ Even  so  say  1/  said  the  Alderman ; ‘besides,  we  might  then 
leave  more  folk  behind  us  for  the  warding  of  the  Dale.  So,  son, 
the  risk  whereof  thou  speakest  groweth  the  lesser  the  longer  it  is 
looked  on.’ 

Then  spake  the  Dale-warden:  ‘Yet  saving  your  wisdom^ 
Alderman,  the  risk  is  there  yet.  For  if  these  felons  come  into  the 
Dale  at  all,  even  if  the  folk  left  behind  hold  the  Burg  and  keep 
themselves  unmurdered,  yet  may  they  not  hinder  the  foe  from  spoil- 
ing our  homesteads ; so  that  our  folk  coming  back  in  triumph  shall 
find  ruin  at  home,  and  spend  weary  days  in  hunting  their  foemen, 
who  shall,  many  of  them,  escape  into  the  Wild- wood.’ 

‘Yea,’  said  the  Sun-beam,  ‘sooth  is  that;  and  Face-of-god  is 
wise  to  think  of  it  and  of  other  matters.  Yet  one  thing  we  must  bear 
in  mind,  that  all  may  not  go  smoothly  in  our  day’s  work  in  Silver- 
dale  ; so  we  must  have  force  there  to  fall  back  on,  in  case  we  miss 
our  stroke  at  first.  Therefore,  I say,  send  we  no  man  to  Rose-dale, 
and  leave  we  no  able  man-at-arms  behind  in  the  Burg, i so  that  we 
have  with  us  every  blade  that  may  be  gathered.’ 

Iron-face  smiled  and  said:  ‘Thou  art  wise,  damsel;  and  I 
marvel  that  so  fair-fashioned  a thing  as  thou  can  think  so  hardly 
of  the  meeting  of  the  fallow  blades.  But  hearken  ! will  not  the 
Dusky  Men  hear  that  we  have  stripped  the  Dale  of  fighting-men, 
and  may  they  not  then  give  our  host  the  go-by  and  send  folk  to 
ruin  us  ? ’ 

There  was  silence  while  Face-of-god  lookeddown  on  the  board ; 
but  presently  he  lifted  up  his  face  and  said : 

‘ Folk-might  was  right  when  he  said  that  all  must  be  risked. 
Let  us  leave  Rose-dale  till  we  have  overcome  them  of  Silver-dale. 
Moreover,  my  father,  thou  must  not  deem  of  these  felons  as  if  they 
were  of  like  wits  to  us,  to  forecast  the  deeds  to  come,  and  weigh 
the  chances  nicely,  and  unravel  tangled  clews.  Rather  they  move 


like  to  the  stares  in  autumn,  or  the  winter  wild-geese,  and  will  all  Face-of-god's 

be  thrust  forward  by  some  sting  that  entereth  into  their  imagina-  full  mind. 

tions.  Therefore,  if  they  have  appointed  one  moon  to  wear  before 

they  fall  upon  us,  they  will  not  stir  till  then,  and  we  have  time 

enough  to  do  what  must  be  done.  Wherefore  am  I now  of  one 

mind  with  the  rest  of  you.  Now  meseemeth  it  were  well  that 

these  things  which  we  have  spoken  here,  and  shall  speak,  should 

not  be  noised  abroad  openly;  nay,  at  the  Folk-mote  it  would  be 

well  that  nought  be  said  about  the  day  or  the  way  of  our  onslaught 

on  Silver-dale,  lest  the  foe  take  warning  and  be  on  their  guard. 

Though,  sooth  to  say,  did  I deem  that  if  they  had  word  of  our  intent 
they  of  Rose-dale  would  join  themselves  to  them  of  Silver-dale, 
and  that  we  should  thus  have  all  our  foes  in  one  net,  then  were 
I fain  if  the  word  would  reach  them.  For  my  soul  loathes  the 
hunting  that  shall  befall  up  and  down  the  wood  for  the  slaying  of 
a man  here,  and  two  or  three  there,  and  the  wearing  of  the  days 
in  wandering  up  and  down  with  weapons  in  the  hand,  and  the 
spinning  out  of  hatred  and  delaying  of  peace.’ 

Then  Iron-face  reached  his  hand  across  the  board  and  took  his 
son’s  hand,  and  said  ; 

‘ Hail  to  thee,  son,  for  thy  word!  Herein  thou  speakest  as  if 
from  my  very  soul,  and  fain  am  I of  such  a War-leader.’ 

And  desire  drew  the  eyes  of  the  Sun-beam  to  Face-of-god,  and 
she  beheld  him  proudly.  But  he  said  : 

‘ All  hath  been  spoken  that  the  others  of  us  may  speak  ; and 
now  it  falleth  to  the  part  of  Folk-might  to  order  our  goings  for 
the  tryst  for  the  onslaught,  and  the  trysting-place  shall  be  in 
Shadowy  Vale.  How  sayest  thou.  Chief  of  the  Wolf?’ 

Said  Folk-might : ‘ I have  little  to  say  ; and  it  is  for  the  War- 
leader  to  see  to  this  closely  and  piecemeal.  I deem,  as  we  all  deem, 
that  there  should  be  no  delay ; yet  were  it  best  to  wend  not  all  to- 
gether to  Shadowy  Vale,  but  in  divers  bands,  as  soon  as  ye  may 
after  the  Folk-mote,  by  the  sure  and  nigh  ways  that  we  shall  show 
you.  And  when  we  are  gathered  there,  short  is  the  rede,  for  all 

261 


The  Roll  of 
the  Weapon 
show. 


is  ready  there  to  wend  by  the  passes  which  we  know  throughly, 
and  whereby  it  is  but  two  days’  journey  to  the  head  of  Silver- 
dale,  nigh  to  the  caves  of  the  silver,  where  the  felons  dwell  the 
thickest.’ 

He  set  his  teeth,  and  his  colour  came  and  went : for  as  con- 
stantly as  the  onslaught  had  been  in  his  mind,  yet  whenever  he 
spake  of  the  great  day  of  battle,  hope  and  joy  and  anger  wrought 
a tumult  in  his  soul ; and  now  that  it  was  so  nigh  withal,  he 
could  not  refrain  his  joy. 

But  he  spake  again : ‘ Now  therefore.  War-leader,  it  is  for  thee 
to  order  the  goings  of  thy  folk.  But  I will  tell  thee  that  they 
shall  not  need  to  take  aught  with  them  save  their  weapons  and 
victual  for  the  way,  that  is,  for  thirty  hours  ; because  all  is  ready 
for  them  in  Shadowy  Vale,  though  it  be  but  a poor  place  as  to 
victual.  Canst  thou  tell  us,  therefore,  what  thou  wilt  do  ? ’ 

Face-of-god  had  knit  his  brows  and  become  gloomy  of  coun- 
tenance; but  now  his  face  cleared,  and  he  set  his  hand  to  his 
pouch,  and  drew  forth  a written  parchment,  and  said  : 

‘ This  is  the  order  whereof  I have  bethought  me.  Before  the 
Folk-mote  I and  the  Wardens  shall  speak  to  the  leaders  of  hun- 
dreds, who  be  mostly  here  at  the  Fair,  and  give  them  the  day  and 
the  hour  whereon  they  shall,  each  hundred,  take  their  weapons 
and  wend  to  Shadowy  Vale,  and  also  the  place  where  they  shall 
meet  the  men  of  yours  who  shall  lead  them  across  the  Waste. 
These  hundred- leaders  shall  then  go  straightway  and  give  the 
word  to  the  captains  of  scores,  and  the  captains  of  scores  to  the 
captains  of  tens  ; and  if,  as  is  scarce  doubtful,  the  Folk-mote  yea- 
says  the  onslaught  and  the  fellowship  with  you  of  the  Wolf,  then 
shall  those  leaders  of  tens  bring  their  men  to  the  trysting-place, 
and  so  go  their  ways  to  Shadowy  Vale.  Now  here  I have  the 
roll  of  our  Weapon-show,  and  I will  look  to  it  that  none  shall  be 
passed  over ; and  if  ye  ask  me  in  what  order  they  had  best  get 
on  the  way,  my  rede  is  that  a two  hundred  should  depart  on  the 
very  evening  of  the  day  of  the  Folk-mote,  and  these  to  be  of  our 


folk  of  the  Upper  Dale;  and  on  the  morning  of  the  morrow  of  The  order  of 

the  Folk-mote  another  two  hundreds  from  the  Dale  ; and  in  the  Hosting. 

evening  of  the  same  day  the  folk  of  the  Shepherds,  three  hundreds 

or  more,  and  that  will  be  easy  to  them  ; again  on  the  next  day 

two  more  bands  of  the  Lower  Dale,  one  in  the  morning,  one  in  the 

evening.  Lastly,  in  the  earliest  dawn  of  the  third  day  from  the 

Folk-mote  shall  the  Woodlanders  wend  their  ways.  But  one 

hundred  of  men  let  us  leave  behind  for  the  warding  of  the  Burg, 

even  as  we  agreed  before.  As  for  the  place  of  tryst  for  the  faring 

over  the  Waste,  let  it  be  the  end  of  the  knolls  just  by  the  jaws  of 

the  pass  yonder,  where  the  Weltering  Water  comes  into  the  Dale 

from  the  East.  How  say  ye  ? ’ 

They  all  said,  and  Folk-might  especially,  that  it  was  right  well 
devised,  and  that  thus  it  should  be  done. 

Then  turned  Face-of-god  to  the  Dale- warden,  and  said  : 

‘ It  were  good,  brother,  that  we  saw  the  other  wardens  as 
soon  as  may  be,  to  do  them  to  wit  of  this  order,  and  what  they 
have  to  do.’ 

Therewith  he  arose  and  took  the  Elder  of  the  Dale-wardens 
away  with  him,  and  the  twain  set  about  their  business  straight- 
way. Neither  did  the  others  abide  long  in  the  Hall,  but  went 
out  into  the  Burg  to  see  the  chapmen  and  their  wares.  There 
the  Alderman  bought  what  he  needed  of  iron  and  steel  and  other 
matters ; and  Folk-might  cheapened  him  a dagger  curiously 
wrought,  and  a web  of  gold  and  silk  for  the  Sun-beam,  for  which 
wares  he  paid  in  silver  arm-rings,  new-wrought  and  of  strange 
fashion. 

But  amidst  of  the  chaffer  was  now  a great  ring  of  men  ; and 
in  the  midst  of  the  ring  stood  Redesman,  fiddle  and  bow  in  hand, 
and  with  him  were  four  damsels  wondrously  arrayed  ; for  the  first 
was  clad  in  a smock  so  craftily  wrought  with  threads  of  green  and 
many  colours,  that  it  seemed  like  a piece  of  the  green  field  beset 
with  primroses  and  cowslips  and  harebells  and  windflowers,  rather 
than  a garment  woven  and  sewn ; and  in  her  hand  she  bore  a 

263 


A play 
amidst  the 
market. 


naked  sword,  with  golden  hilts  and  gleaming  blade.  But  the 
second  bore  on  her  roses  done  in  like  manner,  both  blossoms  and 
green  leaves,  wherewith  her  body  was  covered  decently,  which 
else  had  been  naked.  The  third  was  clad  as  though  she  were 
wading  the  wheat-field  to  the  waist,  and  above  was  wrapped  in 
the  leaves  and  bunches  of  the  wine-tree.  And  the  fourth  was 
clad  in  a scarlet  gown  flecked  with  white  wool  to  set  forth 
the  winter’s  snow,  and  broidered  over  with  the  burning  brands 
of  the  Holy  Hearth ; and  she  bore  on  her  head  a garland  of 
mistletoe.  And  these  four  damsels  were  clearly  seen  to  image 
the  four  seasons  of  the  year — Spring,  Summer,  Autumn,  and 
Winter.  But  amidst  them  stood  a fountain  or  conduit  of  gilded 
work  cunningly  wrought,  and  full  of  the  best  wine  of  the  Dale, 
and  gilded  cups  and  beakers  hung  about  it. 

So  now  Redesman  fell  to  caressing  his  fiddle  with  the  bow  till 
it  began  to  make  sweet  music,  and  therewith  the  hearts  of  all 
danced  with  it ; and  presently  words  come  into  his  mouth,  and  he 
fell  to  singing ; and  the  damsels  answered  him  : 

Earth-wielders,  that  fashion  the  Dale-dwellers’  treasure. 

Soft  are  ye  by  seeming,  yet  hardy  of  heart ! 

No  warrior  amongst  us  withstandeth  your  pleasure ; 

No  man  from  his  meadow  may  thrust  you  apart. 

Fresh  and  fair  are  your  bodies,  but  far  beyond  telling 
Are  the  years  of  your  lives,  and  the  craft  ye  have  stored. 

Come  give  us  a word,  then,  concerning  our  dwelling. 

And  the  days  to  befall  us,  the  fruit  of  the  sword. 

Winter  saith : 

When  last  in  the  feast-hall  the  Y ule-fire  flickered. 

The  foot  of  no  foeman  fared  over  the  snow. 

And  nought  but  the  wind  with  the  ash-branches  bickered  : 
Next  Yule  ye  may  deem  it  a long  time  ago. 

264 


Autumn  saith  : A man  taketh 

Loud  laughed  ye  last  year  in  the  wheat-field  a-smiting  ; the  sword. 

And  ye  laughed  as  your  backs  drave  the  beam  of  the  press. 

When  the  edge  of  the  war-sword  the  acres  are  lighting 
Look  up  to  the  Banner  and  laugh  ye  no  less. 

Summer  saith  : 

Ye  called  and  I came,  and  how  good  was  the  greeting, 

When  ye  wrapped  me  in  roses  both  bosom  and  side  ! 

Here  yet  shall  I long,  and  be  fain  of  our  meeting. 

As  hidden  from  battle  your  coming  I bide. 

Spring  saith : 

I am  here  for  your  comfort,  and  lo ! what  I carry  ; 

The  blade  with  the  bright  edges  bared  to  the  sun. 

To  the  field,  to  the  work  then,  that  e’en  I may  tarry 
For  the  end  of  the  tale  in  my  first  days  begun ! 

Therewith  the  throng  opened,  and  a young  man  stepped  lightly 
into  the  ring,  clad  in  very  fair  armour,  with  a gilded  helm  on  his 
head ; and  he  took  the  sword  from  the  hand  of  the  Maiden  of 
Spring,  and  waved  it  in  the  air  till  the  westering  sun  flashed 
back  from  it.  Then  each  of  the  four  damsels  went  up  to  the 
swain  and  kissed  his  mouth  ; and  Redesman  drew  the  bow  across 
the  strings,  and  the  four  damsels  sang  together,  standing  round 
about  the  young  warrior  : 

It  was  but  a while  since  for  earth’s  sake  we  trembled. 

Lest  the  increase  our  life-days  had  won  for  the  Dale, 

All  the  wealth  that  the  moons  and  the  years  had  assembled. 

Should  be  but  a mock  for  the  days  of  your  bale. 

But  now  we  behold  the  sun  smite  on  the  token 
In  the  hand  of  the  Champion,  the  heart  of  a man  ; 

265 


M M 


Men  take 
drink  at  the 
damsels’ 
hands. 


We  look  down  the  long  years  and  see  them  unbroken ; 

Forth  fareth  the  Folk  by  the  ways  it  began. 

So  bid  ye  these  chapmen  in  autumn  returning, 

To  bring  iron  for  ploughshares  and  steel  for  the  scythe, 

And  the  over-sea  oil  that  hath  felt  the  sun’s  burning. 

And  fair  webs  for  your  women  soft-spoken  and  blithe ; 

And  pledge  ye  your  word  in  the  market  to  meet  them, 

As  many  a man  and  as  many  a maid. 

As  eager  as  ever,  as  guest-fain  to  greet  them. 

And  bide  till  the  booth  from  the  waggon  is  made. 

Come,  guests  of  our  lovers ! for  we,  the  year-wielders, 

Bid  each  man  and  all  to  come  hither  and  take 

A cup  from  our  hands  midst  the  peace  of  our  shielders. 

And  drink  to  the  days  of  the  Dale  that  we  make. 

Then  went  the  damsels  to  that  wine-fountain,  and  drew  thence 
cups  of  the  best  and  brightest  wine  of  the  Dale,  and  went  round 
about  the  ring,  and  gave  drink  to  whomsoever  would,  both  of  the 
chapmen  and  the  others  ; while  the  weaponed  youth  stood  in  the 
midst  bearing  aloft  his  sword  and  shield  like  an  image  in  a holy 
place,  and  Redesman’s  bow  still  went  up  and  down  the  strings, 
and  drew  forth  a sweet  and  merry  tune. 

Great  game  it  was  now  to  see  the  stark  Burgdale  carles  drag- 
ging the  Men  of  the  Plain,  liule  loth,  up  to  the  front  of  the 
ring,  that  they  might  stretch  out  their  hands  for  a cup,  and  how 
many  a one,  as  he  took  it,  took  as  much  as  he  might  of  the  dam- 
sel’s hand  withal.  As  for  the  damsels,  they  played  the  Holy  Play 
very  daintily,  neither  reddening  nor  laughing,  but  faring  so 
solemnly,  and  withal  so  sweetly  and  bright-faced,  that  it  might  well 
have  been  deemed  that  they  were  in  very  sooth  Maidens  of  the  God 
of  Earth  sentfrom  the  ever-enduring  Hall  tocheer  the  heartsofmen. 

So  simply  and  blithely  did  the  Men  of  Burgdale  disport  them 

266 


after  the  manner  of  their  fathers,  trusting  in  their  valour  and  be- 
holding the  good  days  to  be. 

So  wore  the  evening,  and  when  night  was  come,  men  feasted 
throughout  the  Burg  from  house  to  house,  and  every  hall  was  full. 
But  the  Guests  from  Shadowy  Vale  feasted  in  the  Hall  of  the 
Face  in  all  glee  and  goodwill ; and  with  them  were  the  chief  of  the 
chapmen  and  two  others  ; but  the  rest  of  them  had  been  laid  hold 
of  by  goodmen  of  the  Burg,  and  dragged  into  their  feast-halls, 
for  they  were  fain  of  those  guests  and  their  tales.  One  of  the 
chapmen  in  the  House  of  the  Face  knew  Folk-might,  and  hailed 
him  by  the  name  he  had  borne  in  the  Cities,  Regulus  to  wit ; 
indeed,  the  chief  chapman  knew  him,  and  even  somewhat  over- 
well,  for  he  had  been  held  to  ransom  by  Folk-might  in  those  past 
days,  and  even  yet  feared  him,  because  he,  the  chapman,  had 
played  somewhat  of  a dastard’s  part  to  him.  But  the  other  was 
an  open-hearted  and  merry  fellow,  and  no  weakling ; and  Folk- 
might  was  fain  of  his  talk  concerning  times  bygone,  and  the  fields 
they  had  foughten  in,  and  other  adventures  that  had  befallen 
them,  both  good  and  evil. 

As  for  Face-of-god,  he  went  about  the  Hall  soberly,  and  spake 
no  more  than  behoved  him,  so  as  not  to  seem  a mar-feast ; for 
the  image  of  the  slaughter  to  be  yet  abode  with  him,  and  his 
heart  foreboded  the  after-grief  of  the  battle.  He  had  no  speech 
with  the  Sun-beam  till  men  were  sundering  after  the  feast,  and 
then  he  came  close  to  her  amidst  of  the  turmoil,  and  said  : 

‘ Time  presses  on  me  these  days  ; but  if  thou  wouldest  speak 
with  me  to-morrow  as  I would  with  thee,  then  mightest  thou  go 
on  the  Bridge  of  the  Burg  about  sunrise,  and  I will  be  there, 
and  we  two  only.’ 

Her  face,  which  had  been  somewhat  sad  that  evening  (for  she 
had  been  watching  his),  brightened  at  that  word,  and  she  took 
his  hand  as  folk  came  thronging  round  about  them,  and  said  : 
‘ Yea,  friend,  I shall  be  there,  and  fain  of  thee.’  And  therewithal 
they  sundered  for  that  night. 


Night  in 
the  Burg. 


Morning  in 
the  meadows. 


And  all  men  went  to  sleep  throughout  the  Burg  : howbeit  they 
set  a watch  at  the  Burg-Gate;  and  Hall-face,  when  he  was  coming 
back  from  the  woodland  ward  about  sunset,  fell  in  with  Red- 
coat of  Waterless  and  four  score  men  on  the  Portway  coming  to 
meet  him  and  take  his  place.  All  which  was  clean  contrary  to 
the  wont  of  the  Burgdalers,  who  at  most  whiles  held  no  watch 
and  ward,  not  even  in  Fair-time. 


CHAPTER  XXXV.  FACE-OF-GOD  TALKETH  WITH  THE 
SUN-BEAM. 

FACE-OF-GOD  was  at  the  Bridge  on  the  morrow  before 
sun-rising,  and  as  he  turned  about  at  the  Bridge-foot  he 
saw  the  Sun-beam  coming  down  the  street ; and  his  heart 
rose  to  his  mouth  at  the  sight  of  her,  and  he  went  to  meet  her 
and  took  her  by  the  hand  ; and  there  were  no  words  between 
them  till  they  had  kissed  and  caressed  each  other,  for  there  was 
no  one  stirring  about  them.  So  they  went  over  the  Bridge  into 
the  meadows,  and  eastward  of  the  beaten  path  thereover. 

The  grass  was  growing  thick  and  strong,  and  it  was  full  of 
flowers,  as  the  cowslip  and  the  oxlip,  and  the  chequered  daffodil, 
and  the  wild  tulip : the  black-thorn  was  well-nigh  done  bloom- 
ing, but  the  hawthorn  was  in  bud,  and  in  some  places  growing 
white.  It  was  a fair  morning,  warm  and  cloudless,  but  the  night 
had  been  misty,  and  the  haze  still  hung  about  the  meadows  of 
the  Dale  where  they  were  wettest,  and  the  grass  and  its  flowers 
were  heavy  with  dew,  so  that  the  Sun-beam  went  barefoot  in 
the  meadow.  She  had  a dark  cloak  cast  over  her  kirtle,  and 
had  left  her  glittering  gown  behind  her  in  the  House. 

They  went  along  hand  in  hand  exceeding  fain  of  each  other, 
and  the  sun  rose  as  they  went,  and  the  long  beams  of  gold  shone 
through  the  tops  of  the  tall  trees  across  the  grass  they  trod,  and 
a light  wind  rose  up  in  the  north,  as  Face-of-god  stayed  a mo- 

268 


ment  and  turned  toward  the  Face  of  the  Sun  and  prayed  to  Him, 
while  the  Sun-beam’s  hand  left  the  War-leader’s  hand  and  stole 
up  to  his  golden  locks  and  lay  amongst  them. 

Presently  they  went  on,  and  the  feet  of  Face-of-god  led  him 
unwitting  toward  the  chestnut  grove  by  the  old  dyke  where  he 
had  met  the  Bride  such  a little  while  ago,  till  he  bethought 
whither  he  was  going  and  stopped  short  and  reddened ; and  the 
Sun-beam  noted  it,  but  spake  not ; but  he  said  : ‘ H ereby  is  a 
fair  place  for  us  to  sit  and  talk  till  the  day’s  work  beginneth.’ 

So  then  he  turned  aside,  and  soon  they  came  to  a hawthorn 
brake  out  of  which  arose  a great  tall-stemmed  oak,  showing  no 
green  as  yet  save  a little  on  its  lower  twigs ; and  anigh  it,  yet 
with  room  for  its  boughs  to  grow  freely,  was  a great  bird-cherry 
tree,  all  covered  now  with  sweet-smelling  white  blossoms.  There 
they  sat  down  on  the  trunk  of  a tree  felled  last  year,  and  she 
cast  off  her  cloak,  and  took  his  face  between  her  two  hands  and 
kissed  him  long  and  fondly,  and  for  a while  their  joy  had  no 
word.  But  when  speech  came  to  them,  it  was  she  that  spake 
first  and  said  : 

‘ Gold-mane,  my  dear,  sorely  I wonder  at  thee  and  at  me,  how 
we  are  changed  since  that  day  last  autumn  when  I first  saw 
thee.  Whiles  I think,  didst  thou  not  laugh  when  thou  wert  by 
thyself  that  day,  and  mock  at  me  privily,  that  I must  needs  take 
such  wisdom  on  myself,  and  lesson  thee  standing  like  a stripling 
before  me.  Dost  thou  not  call  it  all  to  mind  and  make  merry 
over  it,  now  that  thou  art  become  a great  chieftain  and  a wise 
warrior,  and  I am  yet  what  I always  was,  a young  maiden  of  the 
kindred  ; save  that  now  I abide  no  longer  for  my  love  ? ’ 

Her  face  was  exceeding  bright  and  rippled  with  joyous  smiles, 
and  he  looked  at  her  and  deemed  that  her  heart  was  overflowing 
with  happiness,  and  he  wondered  at  her  indeed  that  she  was  so 
glad  of  him,  and  he  said  : 

‘ Yea,  indeed,  oft  do  I see  that  morning  in  the  woodland  hall 
and  thee  and  me  therein,  as  one  looketh  on  a picture  ; yea  verily, 

269 


They  fall  to 
speech  in  the 
hawthorn 
brake. 


They  talk  of  and  I laugh,  yet  is  it  for  very  bliss ; neither  do  I mock  at  all. 
the  change  Did  I not  deem  thee  a God  then  ? and  am  I not  most  happy  now 
when  I can  call  it  thus  to  mind  ? And  as  to  thee,  thou  wert  wise 
then,  and  yet  art  thou  wise  now.  Yea,  I thought  thee  a God  ; 
and  if  we  are  changed,  is  it  not  rather  that  thou  hast  lifted  me 
up  to  thee,  and  not  come  down  to  me  ? ’ 

Yet  therewithal  he  knit  his  brows  somewhat  and  said  : 

‘ Yet  thou  hast  not  to  tell  me  that  all  thy  love  for  thy  Folk, 
and  thy  yearning  hope  for  its  recoverance,  was  but  a painted 
show.  Else  why  shouldst  thou  love  me  the  better  now  that  I 
am  become  a chieftain,  and  therefore  am  more  meet  to  under- 
stand thy  hope  and  thy  sorrow  ? Did  I not  behold  thee  as  we 
stood  before  the  Wolf  of  the  Hall  of  Shadowy  Vale,  how  the 
tears  stood  in  thine  eyes  as  thou  beheldest  him,  and  thine  hand 
in  mine  quivered  and  clung  to  me,  and  thou  wert  all  changed  in 
a moment  of  time?  Was  all  this  then  but  a seeming  and  a 
beguilement  ? ’ 

‘ O young  man,’  she  said,  ‘ hast  thou  not  said  it,  that  we  stood 
there  close  together,  and  my  hand  in  thine  and  desire  growing  up 
in  me  ? Dost  thou  not  know  how  this  also  quickeneth  the  story 
of  our  Folk,  and  our  goodwill  towards  the  living,  and  remem- 
brance of  the  dead  ? Shall  they  have  lived  and  desired,  and  we 
deny  desire  and  life  ? Or  tell  me  : what  was  it  made  thee  so 
chieftain-like  in  the  Hall  yesterday,  so  that  thou  wert  the  master 
of  all  our  wills,  for  as  self-willed  as  some  of  us  were  ? Was  it 
not  that  I,  whom  thou  deemest  lovely,  was  thereby  watching  thee 
and  rejoicing  in  thee?  Did  not  the  sweetness  of  thy  love  quicken 
thee?  Yet  because  of  that  was  thy  warrior’s  wisdom  and  thy 
foresight  an  empty  show  ? Heedest  thou  nought  the  Folk  of  the 
Dale  ? Wouldest  thou  sunder  from  the  children  of  the  Fathers, 
and  dwell  amongst  strangers  ? ’ 

He  kissed  her  and  smiled  on  her  and  said  : ‘ Did  I not  say  of 
thee  that  thou  wert  wiser  than  the  daughters  of  men  ? See  how 
wise  thou  hast  made  me  ! * 


270 


She  spake  again  : ‘ Nay,  nay,  there  was  no  feigning  in  my  Face-of-god 
love  for  my  people.  How  couldest  thou  think  it,  when  the  made  wise 
Fathers  and  the  kindred  have  made  this  body  that  thou  lovest, 
and  the  voice  of  their  songs  is  in  the  speech  thou  deemest  sweet?  ’ 

He  said  : ‘ Sweet  friend,  I deemed  not  that  there  was  feigning 
in  thee : I was  but  wondering  what  I am  and  how  I was  fashioned, 
that  I should  make  thee  so  glad  that  thou  couldst  for  a while 
forget  thy  hope  of  the  days  before  we  met.’ 

She  said  : ‘ O how  glad,  how  glad  ! Yet  was  I nought  hap- 
less. In  despite  of  all  trouble  I had  no  down-weighing  grief,  and 
I had  the  hope  of  my  people  before  me.  Good  were  my  days ; but 
I knew  not  till  now  how  glad  a child  of  man  may  be.’ 

Their  words  were  hushed  for  a while  amidst  their  caresses. 

Then  she  said  : 

‘ Gold-mane,  my  friend,  I mocked  not  my  past  self  because  I deem 
that  I was  a fool  then,  but  because  I see  now  that  all  that  my 
wisdom  could  do,  would  have  come  about  without  my  wisdom ; 
and  that  thou,  deeming  thyself  something  less  than  wise,  didst 
accomplish  the  thing  I craved,  and  that  which  thou  didst  crave 
also  ; and  withal  wisdom  embraced  thee,  along  with  love.’ 

Therewith  she  cast  her  arms  about  him  and  said  : 

‘ O friend,  I mock  myself  of  this  : that  erst  thou  deemedst  me 
a God  and  fearedst  me,  but  now  thou  seemest  to  me  to  be  a God, 
and  I fear  thee.  Yea,  though  I have  longed  so  sore  to  be  with 
thee  since  the  day  of  Shadowy  Vale,  and  though  I have  wearied 
of  the  slow  wearing  of  the  days,  and  it  hath  tormented  me ; yet 
now  that  I am  with  thee,  I bless  the  torment  of  my  longing;  for 
it  is  but  my  longing  that  compelleth  me  to  cast  away  my  fear 
of  thee  and  caress  thee,  because  I have  learned  how  sweet  it  is  to 
love  thee  thus.’ 

He  wound  hisarms  about  her,  and  sweeter  was  their  longin;-  than 
mere  joy ; and  though  their  love  was  beyond  measure,  yet  was 
therein  no  shame  to  aught,  not  even  to  the  lovely  Dale  and  that  fair 
season  of  spring,  so  goodly  they  were  among  the  children  of  men. 

271 


On  the  way  In  a while  they  arose  and  turned  homeward,  and  went  over  the 
back.  open  meadow,  and  it  was  yet  early,  and  the  dew  was  as  heavy  on 

the  grass  as  before,  though  the  wide  sunlight  was  now  upon  it, 
glittering  on  the  wet  blades,  and  shining  through  the  bells  of  the 
chequered  daffodils  till  they  looked  like  gouts  of  blood. 

^ Look,’  said  Sun-beam,  as  they  went  along  by  the  same  way 
whereas  they  came,  ‘ deemest  thou  not  that  other  speech-friends 
besides  us  have  been  abroad  to  talk  together  apart  on  this  morning 
of  the  eve  of  battle.  It  is  nought  unwonted,  that  we  do,  even 
though  we  forget  the  trouble  of  the  people  to  think  of  our  own 
joy  for  a while.’ 

The  smile  died  out  of  her  face  as  she  spoke,  and  she  said  : 
‘ O friend,  this  much  may  I say  for  myself  in  all  sooth,  that 
indeed  I would  die  for  the  kindred  and  its  good  days,  nor  falter 
therein  ; but  if  I am  to  die,  might  I but  die  in  thine  arms ! ’ 

He  looked  very  lovingly  on  her,  and  put  his  arm  about  her 
and  kissed  her  and  said  : ^ What  ails  us  to  stand  in  the  doom- 
ring and  bear  witness  against  ourselves  before  the  kindred  ? Now 
I will  say,  that  whatsoever  the  kindred  may  or  can  call  upon  me 
to  do,  that  will  I do,  nor  grudge  the  deed  : I am  sackless  before 
them.  But  that  is  true  which  I spake  to  thee  when  we  came 
together  up  out  of  Shadowy  Vale,  to  wit,  that  I am  no  strifeful 
man,  but  a peaceful ; and  I look  to  it  to  win  through  this  war, 
and  find  on  the  other  side  either  death,  or  life  amongst  a happy 
folk  ; and  I deem  that  this  is  mostly  the  mind  of  our  people.’ 
She  said  : ‘ Thou  shalt  not  die,  thou  shalt  not  die  ! ’ 

‘ Mayhappen  not,’  he  said ; ‘ yet  yesterday  I could  not  but 
look  into  the  slaughter  to  come,  and  it  seemed  to  me  a grim 
thing,  and  darkened  the  day  for  me  ; and  I grew  acold  as  a man 
walking  with  the  dead.  But  tell  me : thou  sayest  I shall  not 
die ; dost  thou  say  this  only  because  I am  become  dear  to  thee, 
or  dost  thou  speak  it  out  of  thy  foresight  of  things  to  come  ? ’ 
She  stopped  and  looked  silently  a while  over  the  meadows 
towards  the  houses  of  the  Thorp  : they  were  standing  now  on 


the  border  of  a shallow  brook  that  ran  down  toward  the  Wei-  Footprints  ir 
tering  Water;  it  had  a little  strand  of  fine  sand  like  the  sea-  the  sand, 
shore,  driven  close  together,  and  all  moist,  because  that  brook  was 
used  to  flood  the  meadow  for  the  feeding  of  the  grass ; and  the 
last  evening  the  hatches  which  held  up  the  water  had  been  drawn, 
so  that  much  had  ebbed  away  and  left  the  strand  aforesaid. 

After  a while  the  Sun-beam  turned  to  Face-of-god,  and  she 
was  become  somewhat  pale ; she  said  : 

‘ Nay,  I have  striven  to  see,  and  can  see  nought  save  the  pic- 
ture of  hope  and  fear  that  I make  for  myself.  So  it  oft  befalleth 
foreseeing  women,  that  the  love  of  a man  cloudeth  their  vision. 

Be  content,  dear  friend ; it  is  for  life  or  death ; but  whichso  it 
be,  the  same  for  me  and  thee  together  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,’  he  said,  ‘ and  well  content  I am ; so  now  let  each  of 
us  trust  in  the  other  to  be  both  good  and  dear,  even  as  I trusted 
in  thee  the  first  hour  that  I looked  on  thee.’ 

* It  is  well,’  she  said  ; Mt  is  well.  How  fair  thou  art ; and  how 
fair  is  the  morn,  and  this  our  Dale  in  the  goodly  season ; and  all 
this  abideth  us  when  the  battle  is  over.’ 

Once  more  her  voice  became  sweet  and  wheedling,  and  the 
smile  lit  up  her  face  again,  and  she  pointed  down  to  the  sand  with 
her  finger,  and  said  : 

‘ See  thou  ! Here  indeed  have  other  lovers  passed  b}^  across 
the  brook.  Shall  we  wish  them  good  luck  ? ’ 

He  laughed  and  looked  down  on  the  sand,  and  said : 

‘ Thou  art  in  haste  to  make  a story  up.  Indeed  I see  that 
these  first  footprints  are  of  a woman,  for  no  carle  of  the  Dale 
has  a foot  as  small ; for  we  be  tall  fellows ; and  these  others  withal 
are  a man’s  footprints  ; and  if  they  showed  that  they  had  been 
walking  side  by  side,  simple  had  been  thy  tale  ; but  so  it  is  not. 

I cannot  say  that  these  two  pairs  of  feet  went  over  the  brook 
within  five  minutes  of  each  other ; but  sure  it  is  that  they  could 
not  have  been  faring  side  by  side.  Well,  belike  they  were 
lovers  bickering,  and  we  may  wish  them  luck  out  of  that.  Truly 

273  N N 


They  come 
back  to  the 
House. 


it  is  well  seen  that  Bow-may  hath  done  thine  hunting  for  thee, 
dear  friend  ; or  else  wouldest  thou  have  lacked  venison  ; for  thou 
hast  no  hunter’s  eye.’ 

‘ Well,’  she  said,  ‘ but  wish  them  luck,  and  give  me  thine  hand 
upon  it.’ 

He  took  her  hand,  and  fondled  it,  and  said : ‘ By  this  hand 
of  my  speech-friend,  I wish  these  twain  all  luck,  in  love  and  in 
leisure,  in  faring  and  fighting,  in  sowing  and  samming,  in  getting 
and  giving.  Is  it  well  enough  wished  ? If  so  it  be,  then  come 
thy  ways,  dear  friend;  for  the  day’s  work  is  at  hand.’ 

‘ It  is  well  wished,’  she  said.  ‘ Now  hearken  : by  the  valiant 
hand  of  the  War-leader,  by  the  hand  that  shall  unloose  my  girdle, 
I wish  these  twain  to  be  as  happy  as  we  be.’ 

He  made  as  if  to  draw  her  away,  but  she  hung  aback  to  set 
the  print  of  her  foot  beside  the  woman’s  foot,  and  then  they  went 
on  together,  and  soon  crossed  the  Bridge,  and  came  home  to  the 
House  of  the  Face. 

When  they  had  broken  their  fast,  Face-of-god  would  straight 
get  to  his  business  of  ordering  matters  for  the  warfare,  and  was 
wishful  to  speak  with  Folk-might;  but  found  him  not,  either  in 
the  House  or  the  street.  But  a man  said  : 

‘ I saw  the  tall  Guest  come  abroad  from  the  House  and  go 
toward  the  Bridge  very  early  in  the  morning.’ 

The  Sun-beam,  who  was  anigh  when  that  was  spoken,  heard 
it  and  smiled,  and  said  : ‘ Gold-mane,  deemest  thou  that  it  was 
my  brother  whom  we  blessed  ? ’ 

‘ I wot  not,’  he  said  ; ‘ but  I would  he  were  here,  for  this  gear 
must  speedily  be  looked  to.’ 

Nevertheless  it  was  nigh  an  hour  before  Folk-might  came  home 
to  the  House.  He  strode  in  lightly  and  gaily,  and  shaking  the 
crest  of  his  war-helm  as  he  went.  He  looked  friendly  on  Face- 
of-god,  and  said  to  him  : 

‘ Thou  hast  been  seeking  me.  War-leader ; but  grudge  it  not 
that  I have  caused  thee  to  tarry.  For  as  things  have  gone,  I am 

274 


twice  the  man  for  thine  helping  that  I was  yester-eve  ; and  thou 
art  so  ready  and  deft,  that  all  will  be  done  in  due  time/ 

He  looked  as  if  he  would  have  had  Face-of-god  ask  of  him 
what  made  him  so  fain,  but  Face-of-god  said  only : 

^ I am  glad  of  thy  gladness  ; but  now  let  us  dally  no  longer, 
for  I have  many  folk  to  see  to-day  and  much  to  set  a-going.’ 

So  therewith  they  spake  together  a while,  and  then  went  their 
ways  together  toward  Carlstead  and  the  Woodlanders. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI.  FOLK-MIGHT  SPEAKETH  WITH  THE 
BRIDE. 

IT  must  be  told  that  those  footprints  which  Face-of-god  and 
the  Sun-beam  had  blessed  betwixt  jest  and  earnest  had  more 
to  do  with  them  than  they  wotted  of.  For  Folk-might,  who 
had  had  many  thoughts  and  longings  since  he  had  seen  the  Bride 
again,  rose  up  early  about  sunrise,  and  went  out-a-doors,  and 
wandered  about  the  Burg,  letting  his  eyes  stray  over  the  goodly 
stone  houses  and  their  trim  gardens,  yet  noting  them  little,  since 
the  Bride  was  not  there. 

At  last  he  came  to  where  there  was  an  open  place,  straight- 
sided, longer  than  it  was  wide,  with  a wall  on  each  side  of  it, 
over  which  showed  the  blossomed  boughs  of  pear  and  cherry  and 
plum-trees  : on  either  hand  before  the  wall  was  a row  of  great 
lindens,  now  showing  their  first  tender  green,  especially  on  their 
lower  twigs,  where  they  were  sheltered  by  the  wall.  At  the  nether 
end  of  this  place  Folk-might  saw  a grey  stone  house,  and  he 
went  towards  it  betwixt  the  lindens,  for  it  seemed  right  great, 
and  presently  was  but  a score  of  paces  from  its  door,  and  as  yet 
there  was  no  man,  carle  or  queen,  stirring  about  it. 

It  was  a long  low  house  with  a very  steep  roof ; but  belike 
the  hall  was  built  over  some  undercroft,  for  many  steps  went  up 
to  the  door  on  either  hand ; and  the  doorway  was  low,  with  a 

275 


Folk-might 
abroad  be- 
times. 


The  House  of  straight  lintel  under  its  arch.  This  house,  like  the  House  of  the 
rhe  Steer,  Face,  seemed  ancient  and  somewhat  strange,  and  Folk-might 
could  not  choose  but  take  note  of  it.  The  front  was  all  of 
good  ashlar  work,  but  it  was  carven  all  over,  without  heed  being 
paid  to  the  joints  of  the  stones,  into  one  picture  of  a flowery 
meadow,  with  tall  trees  and  bushes  in  it,  and  fowl  perched  in 
the  trees  and  running  through  the  grass,  and  sheep  and  kine  and 
oxen  and  horses  feeding  down  the  meadow  ; and  over  the  door 
at  the  top  of  the  stair  was  wrought  a great  steer  bigger  than  all 
the  other  neat,  whose  head  was  turned  toward  the  sun-rising  and 
uplifted  with  open  mouth,  as  though  he  were  lowing  aloud. 
Exceeding  fair  seemed  that  house  to  Folk-might,  and  as  though 
it  were  the  dwelling  of  some  great  kindred. 

But  he  had  scarce  gone  over  it  with  his  eyes,  and  was  just 
about  to  draw  nigher  yet  to  it,  when  the  door  at  the  top  of  those 
steps  opened,  and  a woman  came  out  of  the  house  clad  in  a green 
kirtle  and  a gown  of  brazil,  with  a golden-hilted  sword  girt  to 
her  side.  Folk-might  saw  at  once  that  it  was  the  Bride,  and 
drew  aback  behind  one  of  the  trees  so  that  she  might  not  see 
him,  if  she  had  not  already  seen  him,  as  it  seemed  not  that  she 
had ; for  she  stayed  but  for  a moment  on  the  top  of  the  stair, 
looking  out  down  the  tree-rows,  and  then  came  down  the  stair 
and  went  soberly  along  the  road,  passing  so  close  to  Folk-might 
that  he  could  see  the  fashion  of  her  beauty  closely,  as  one  looks 
into  the  work  of  some  deftest  artificer.  Then  it  came  suddenly 
into  his  head  that  he  would  follow  her  and  see  whither  she  was 
wending.  ‘ At  least,’  said  he  to  himself,  ‘ if  I come  not  to  speech 
with  her,  I shall  be  nigh  unto  her,  and  shall  see  somewhat  of 
her  beauty.’ 

So  he  came  out  quietly  from  behind  the  tree,  and  followed  her 
softly ; and  he  was  clad  in  no  garment  save  his  kirtle,  and  bare 
no  weapons  to  clash  and  jingle,  though  he  had  his  helm  on  his 
head  for  lack  of  a softer  hat.  He  kept  her  well  in  sight,  and  she 
went  straight  onward  and  looked  not  back.  She  went  by  the  way 


whereas  he  had  come,  till  they  were  in  the  main  street,  wherein 
as  yet  was  no  one  afoot ; she  made  her  way  to  the  Bridge,  and 
passed  over  it  into  the  meadows  ; but  when  she  had  gone  but  a 
few  steps,  she  stayed  a little  and  looked  on  the  ground,  and  as  she 
did  so  turned  a little  toward  Folk-might,  who  had  drawn  back  into 
the  last  of  the  refuges  over  the  up-stream  buttresses.  He  saw  that 
there  was  a half-smile  on  her  face,  but  he  could  not  tell  whether 
she  were  glad  or  sorry.  A light  wind  was  beginning  to  blow,  that 
stirred  her  raiment  and  raised  a lock  of  hair  that  had  strayed  from 
the  golden  fillet  round  about  her  head,  and  she  looked  most  mar- 
vellous fair. 

Now  she  looked  along  the  grass  that  glittered  under  the  beams 
of  the  newly-risen  sun,  and  noted  belike  how  heavy  the  dew  lay 
on  it ; and  the  grass  was  high  already,  for  the  spring  had  been 
hot,  and  haysei  would  be  early  in  the  Dale.  So  she  put  off  her 
shoes,  that  were  of  deerskin  and  broideredwith  golden  threads,  and 
turned  somewhat  from  the  way,  and  hung  them  up  amidst  the  new 
green  leaves  of  a hawthorn  bush  that  stood  nearby,  and  so  went 
thwart  the  meadow  somewhat  eastward  straight  from  that  bush, 
and  her  feet  shone  out  like  pearls  amidst  the  deep  green  grass. 

Folk-might  followed  presently,  and  she  stayed  not  again,  nor 
turned,  nor  beheld  him  ; he  recked  not  if  she  had,  for  then  would 
he  have  come  up  with  her  and  hailed  her,  and  he  knew  that  she 
was  no  foolish  maiden  to  start  at  the  sight  of  a man  who  was  the 
friend  of  her  Folk. 

So  they  went  their  ways  till  she  came  to  the  strand  of  the 
water-meadow  brook  aforesaid,  and  she  went  through  the  little 
ripples  of  the  shallow  without  staying,  and  on  through  the  tall 
deep  grass  of  the  meadow  beyond,  to  where  they  met  the  brook 
again;  for  it  swept  round  the  meadow  in  a wide  curve,  and  turned 
back  toward  itself ; so  it  was  some  half  furlong  over  from  water 
to  water. 

She  stood  a while  on  the  brink  of  the  brook  here,  which  was 
brim-full  and  nigh  running  into  the  grass,  because  there  was  a dam 

277 


Folk-might 
followeth  the 
Bride. 


He  seeth  her  just  below  the  place  ; and  Folk-might  drew  nigher  to  her  under 
weeping.  cover  of  the  thorn-bushes,  and  looked  at  the  place  about  her  and 
beyond  her.  The  meadow  beyond  stream  was  very  fair  and 
flowery,  but  not  right  great ; for  it  was  bounded  by  a grove  of 
ancient  chestnut  trees,  that  went  on  and  on  toward  the  southern 
cliffs  of  the  Dale : in  front  of  the  chestnut  wood  stood  a broken  row 
of  black-thorn  bushes,  now  growing  green  and  losing  their  blos- 
som, and  he  could  see  betwixt  them  that  there  was  a grassy  bank 
running  along,  as  if  there  had  once  been  a turf-wall  and  ditch 
round  about  the  chestnut  trees. — For  indeed  this  was  the  old  place 
of  tryst  between  Gold-mane  and  the  Bride,  whereof  the  tale  hath 
told  before. 

The  Bride  stayed  scarce  longer  than  gave  him  time  to  note  all 
this ; but  he  deemed  that  she  was  weeping,  though  he  could  not 
rightly  see  her  face  ; for  her  shoulders  heaved,  and  she  hung  her 
face  adown  and  put  up  her  hands  to  it.  But  now  she  went  a 
little  higher  up  the  stream,  where  the  water  was  shallower,  and 
waded  the  stream  and  went  up  over  the  meadow,  still  weeping, 
as  he  deemed,  and  went  between  the  black-thorn  bushes,  and  sat 
her  down  on  the  grassy  bank  with  her  back  to  the  chestnut  trees. 

Folk-might  was  ashamed  to  have  seen  her  weeping,  and  was 
half-minded  to  turn  him  back  again  at  once  ; but  love  constrained 
him,  and  he  said  to  himself,  ‘ Where  shall  I see  her  again  privily 
if  I pass  by  this  time  and  place  ? ’ So  he  waited  a little  till  he 
deemed  she  might  have  mastered  the  passion  of  tears,  and  then 
Came  forth  from  his  bush,  and  went  down  to  the  water  and  crossed 
it,  and  went  quietly  over  the  meadow  straight  towards  her. 
But  he  was  not  half-way  across,  when  she  lifted  up  her  face  from 
between  her  hands  and  beheld  the  man  coming.  She  neither  started 
nor  rose  up  ; but  straightened  herself  as  she  sat,  and  looked  right 
into  Folk-might’s  eyes  as  he  drew  near,  though  the  tears  were  not 
dry  on  her  cheeks. 

Now  he  stood  before  her,  and  said : ^ Hail  to  the  Daughter  of 
a mighty  House  ! Mayst  thou  live  happy ! ’ 

278 


She  answered  : ‘ Hail  to  thee  also,  Guest  of  our  Folk ! Hast  She  greeteth 
thou  been  wandering  about  our  meadows,  and  happened  on  me  friendly, 
perchance  ? ’ 

^ Nay,’  he  said ; ‘ I saw  thee  come  forth  from  the  House  of  the 
Steer,  and  I followed  thee  hither.’ 

She  reddened  a little,  and  knit  her  brow,  and  said  : 

‘ Thou  wilt  have  something  to  say  to  me  ? ’ 

* I have  much  to  say  to  thee,’  he  said  ; ‘ yet  it  was  sweet  to 
me  to  behold  thee,  even  if  I might  not  speak  with  thee.’ 

She  looked  on  him  with  her  deep  simple  eyes,  and  neither  red- 
dened again,  nor  seemed  wroth ; then  she  said  : 

‘ Speak  what  thou  hast  in  thine  heart,  and  I will  hearken  with- 
out anger  whatsoever  it  may  be  ; even  if  thou  hast  but  to  tell  me 
of  the  passing  folly  of  a mighty  man,  which  in  a month  or  two 
he  will  not  remember  for  sorrow  or  for  joy.  Sit  here  beside  me, 
and  tell  me  thy  thought.’ 

So  he  sat  him  adown  and  said  : ‘Yea,  I have  much  to  say  to 
thee,  but  it  is  hard  to  me  to  say  it.  But  this  I will  say : to-day  and 
yesterday  make  the  third  time  I have  seen  thee.  The  first  time 
thou  wert  happy  and  calm,  and  no  shadow  of  trouble  was  on  thee ; 
the  second  time  thine  happy  days  were  waning,  though  thou  scarce 
knewest  it ; but  to-day  and  yesterday  thou  art  constrained  by  the 
bonds  of  grief,  and  wouldest  loosen  them  if  thou  mightest.’ 

She  said  : ‘ What  meanest  thou  ? How  knowest  thou  this  ? 

How  may  a stranger  partake  in  my  joy  and  my  sorrow?  ’ 

He  said:  ‘As  for  yesterday,  all  the  people  might  see  thy 
grief  and  know  it.  But  when  I beheld  thee  the  first  time,  I saw  thee 
that  thou  wert  more  fair  and  lovely  than  all  other  women  ; and 
when  I was  away  from  thee,  the  thought  of  thee  and  thine  image 
were  with  me,  and  I might  not  put  them  away ; and  oft  at  such 
and  such  a time  I wondered  and  said  to  myself,  what  is  she  doing 
now  ? though  god  wot  I was  dealing  with  tangles  and  troubles 
and  rough  deeds  enough.  But  the  second  time  I beheld  thee,  when 
I had  looked  to  have  great  joy  in  the  sight  of  thee,  my  heart  was 

279 


He  telleth  her  smitten  with  a pang  of  grief;  for  I saw  thee  hanging  on  the  words 
of  herself.  and  the  looks  of  another  man,  who  was  light-minded  toward 
thee,  and  that  thou  wert  troubled  with  the  anguish  of  doubt  and 
fear.  And  he  knew  it  not,  nor  saw  it,  though  I saw  it.’ 

Her  face  grew  troubled,  and  the  tearful  passion  stirred  within  her. 
But  she  held  it  aback,  and  said,  as  anyone  might  have  said  it : 

‘ How  wert  thou  in  the  Dale,  mighty  man  ? We  saw  thee  not.’ 
He  said  : ^ I came  hither  hidden  in  other  semblance  than  mine 
own.  But  meddle  not  therewith ; it  availeth  nought.  Let  me  say 
this,  and  do  thou  hearken  to  it.  I saw  thee  yesterday  in  the  street, 
and  thou  wert  as  the  ghost  of  thine  old  gladness  ; although  be- 
like thou  hast  striven  with  sorrow ; for  I see  thee  with  a sword 
by  thy  side,  and  we  have  been  told  that  thou,  O fairest  of  women, 
hast  given  thyself  to  the  Warrior  to  be  his  damsel.’ 

* Yea,’  she  said,  ‘ that  is  sooth.’ 

He  went  on  : ^ But  the  face  which  thou  bearedst  yesterday 
against  thy  will,  amidst  all  the  people,  that  was  because  thou 
hadst  seen  my  sister  the  Sun-beam  for  the  first  time,  and  Face-of- 
god  with  her,  hand  clinging  to  hand,  lip  longing  for  lip,  desire 
unsatisfied,  but  glad  with  all  hope.’ 

She  laid  hand  upon  hand  in  the  lap  of  her  gown,  and  looked 
down,  and  her  voice  trembled  as  she  said  : 

‘ Doth  it  avail  to  talk  of  this  ? ’ 

He  said  : ‘ I know  not : it  may  avail ; for  I am  grieved,  and 
shall  be  whilst  thou  art  grieved ; and  it  is  my  wont  to  strive  with 
my  griefs  till  I amend  them.’ 

She  turned  to  him  with  kind  eyes  and  said  : 

‘ O mighty  man,  canst  thou  clear  away  the  tangle  which  be- 
setteth  the  soul  of  her  whose  hope  hath  bewrayed  her  ? Canst 
thou  make  hope  grow  up  in  her  heart?  Friend,  I will  tell  thee 
that  when  I wed,  I shall  wed  for  the  sake  of  the  kindred,  hoping 
for  no  joy  therein.  Yea,  or  if  by  some  chance  the  desire  of  man 
came  again  into  my  heart,  I should  strive  with  it  to  rid  myself  of 
it , for  I should  know  of  it  that  it  was  but  a wasting  folly,  that 

280 


should  but  beguile  me,  and  wound  me,  and  depart,  leaving  me 
empty  of  joy  and  heedless  of  life/ 

He  shook  his  head  and  said  ; ‘ Even  so  thou  deemest  now ; 
but  one  day  it  shall  be  otherwise.  Or  dost  thou  love  thy  sorrow  ? 
I tell  thee,  as  it  wears  thee  and  wears  thee,  thou  shalt  hate  it, 
and  strive  to  shake  it  off.’ 

‘ Nay,  nay,’  she  said  ; ‘ I love  it  not ; for  not  only  it  grieveth 
me,  but  also  it  beateth  me  down  and  belittleth  me.’ 

‘ Good  is  that,’  said  he.  ‘ I know  how  strong  thine  heart  is. 
Now,  wilt  thou  take  mine  hand,  which  is  verily  the  hand  of  thy 
friend,  and  remember  what  I have  told  thee  of  my  grief  which 
cannot  be  sundered  from  thine  ? Shall  we  not  talk  more  concern- 
ing this?  For  surely  I shall  soon  see  thee  again,  and  often ; since 
the  Warrior,  who  loveth  me  belike,  leadeth  thee  into  fellowship 
with  me.  Yea,  I tell  thee,  O friend,  that  in  that  fellowship  shalt 
thou  find  both  the  seed  of  hope,  and  the  sun  of  desire  that  shall 
quicken  it.’ 

Therewith  he  arose  and  stood  before  her,  and  held  out  to  her 
his  hand  all  hardened  with  the  sword-hilt,  and  she  took  it,  and 
stood  up  facing  him,  and  said  : 

‘ This  much  will  I tell  thee,  O friend  ; that  what  I have  said 
to  thee  this  hour,  I thought  not  to  have  said  to  any  man  ; or  to 
talk  with  a man  of  the  grief  that  weareth  me,  or  to  suffer  him  to 
see  my  tears  ; and  marvellous  I deem  it  of  thee,  for  all  thy  might, 
that  thou  hast  drawn  this  speech  from  out  of  me,  and  left  me 
neither  angry  nor  ashamed,  in  spite  of  these  tears;  and  thou  whom 
I have  known  not,  though  thou  knewest  me  ! 

‘ But  now  it  were  best  that  thou  depart,  and  get  thee  home  to 
the  House  of  the  Face,  where  I was  once  so  frequent ; for  I wot 
that  thou  hast  much  to  do  ; and  as  thou  sayest,  it  will  be  in  war- 
fare that  I shall  see  thee.  Now  I thank  thee  for  thy  words  and 
the  thought  thou  hast  had  of  me,  and  the  pain  which  thou  hast 
taken  to  heal  my  hurt : I thank  thee,  I thank  thee,  for  as  grievous 
as  it  is  to  show  one’s  hurts  even  to  a friend.’ 

281 


She  cleemeth 
him  a friend. 


O O 


the  He  said  : Bride,  I thank  thee  for  hearkening  to  my  tale  ; 

and  one  day  shall  I thank  thee  much  more.  Mayest  thou  fare 
well  in  the  Field  and  amidst  the  Folk ! ’ 

Therewith  he  kissed  her  hand,  and  turned  away,  and  went 
across  the  meadow  and  the  stream,  glad  at  heart  and  blithe  with 
everyone  ; for  kindness  grew  in  him  as  gladness  grew. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII.  OF  THE  FOLK-MOTE  OF  THE  DALES- 
MEN, THE  SHEPHERD-FOLK,  AND  THE  WOODLAND 
CARLES:  THE  BANNER  OF  THE  WOLF  DISPLAYED. 

NOW  came  the  day  of  the  Great  Folk-mote,  and  there  was 
much  thronging  from  everywhere  to  the  Mote-stead,  but 
most  from  Burgstead  itself,  whereas  few  of  the  Dale- 
dwellers  who  had  been  at  the  Fair  had  gone  back  home.  Albeit 
some  of  the  Shepherds  and  of  the  Dalesmen  of  the  westernmost 
Dale  had  brought  light  tents,  and  tilted  themselves  in  in  the  night 
before  the  Mote  down  in  the  meadows  below  the  Mote-stead. 
From  early  morning  there  had  been  a stream  of  folk  on  the  Port- 
way setting  westward  ; and  many  came  thus  early  that  they 
might  hold  converse  with  friends  and  well-wishers ; and  some 
that  they  might  disport  them  in  the  woods.  Men  went  in  no 
ordered  bands,  as  the  Burgstead  men  at  least  had  done  on  the  day 
of  the  Weapon-show,  save  that  a few  of  them  who  were  arrayed 
the  bravest  gathered  about  the  banners,  and  went  with  them  to  the 
Mote-stead;  for  all  the  banners  must  needs  be  there. 

The  Folk-mote  was  to  be  hallowed-in  three  hours  before  noon, 
as  all  men  knew ; therefore  an  hour  before  that  time  were  all  men 
of  the  Dale  and  the  Shepherds  assembled  that  might  be  looked 
for,  save  the  Alderman  and  the  chieftains  with  the  banner  of  the 
Burg,  and  these  were  not  like  to  come  many  minutes  before  the 
Hallowing.  Folk  were  gathered  on  the  Field  in  such  wise,  that 
the  men-at-arms  made  a great  ring  round  about  the  Doom-ring 

282 


(albeit  there  were  many  old  men  there,  girt  with  swords  that  they 
should  never  heave  up  again  in  battle),  so  that  without  that  ring 
there  was  nought  save  women  and  children.  But  when  all  the 
other  Houses  were  assembled,  men  looked  around,  and  beheld 
the  place  of  the  Woodlanders  that  it  was  empty  ; and  they  mar- 
velled that  they  were  thus  belated.  For  now  all  was  ready,  and 
a watcher  had  gone  up  to  the  Tower  on  the  height,  and  had  with 
him  the  great  Horn  of  Warning,  which  could  be  heard  past  the 
Mote-stead  and  a great  way  down  the  Dale  : and  if  he  saw  foes 
coming  from  the  East  he  should  blow  one  blast;  if  from  the  South, 
two ; if  from  the  West,  three  ; if  from  the  North,  four. 

So  half  an  hour  from  the  appointed  time  of  Hallowing  rose  the 
rumour  that  the  Alderman  was  on  the  road,  and  presently  they 
of  the  women  who  were  on  the  outside  of  the  throng,  by  drawing 
nigh  to  the  edge  of  the  sheer  rock,  could  behold  the  Banner  of 
the  Burg  on  the  Portway,  and  soon  after  could  see  the  wain, 
done  about  with  green  boughs,  wherein  sat  the  chieftains  in  their 
glittering  war-gear.  Speedily  they  spread  the  tidings,  and  a con- 
fused shout  went  up  into  the  air ; and  in  a little  while  the  wain 
stayed  on  Wildlake’s  Way  at  the  bottom  of  the  steep  slope  that 
went  up  to  the  Mote-stead,  and  the  banner  of  the  Burg  came  on 
proudly  up  the  hill.  Soon  all  men  beheld  it,  and  saw  that  the 
tall  Hall-face  bore  it  in  front  of  his  brother  Face-of-god,  who 
came  on  gleaming  in  war-gear  better  than  most  men  had  seen ; 
which  was  indeed  of  his  father’s  fashioning,  and  his  father’s  gift 
to  him  that  morning. 

After  Face-of-god  came  the  Alderman,  and  with  him  Folk- 
might  leading  the  Sun-beam  by  the  hand,  and  then  Stone-face 
and  the  Elder  of  the  Dale-wardens  ; and  then  the  six  Burg- 
wardens  : as  to  the  other  Dale-wardens,  they  were  in  their  places 
on  the  Field. 

So  now  those  who  had  been  standing  up  turned  their  faces  to- 
ward the  Altar  of  the  Gods,  and  those  who  had  been  sitting  down 
sprang  to  their  feet,  and  the  confused  rumour  of  the  throng  rose 

283 


Here  cometh 
in  the  Aider- 
man. 


Now  come 
the  Wood- 
landers. 


into  a clear  shout  as  the  chieftains  went  to  their  places,  and  sat 
them  down  on  the  turf-seats  amidst  the  Doom-ring  facing  the 
Speech-hill  and  the  Altar  of  the  Gods.  Amidmost  sat  the  Aider- 
man,  on  his  right  hand  Face-of-god,  and  out  from  him  Hall-face, 
and  then  Stone-face  and  three  of  the  Wardens ; but  on  his  left 
hand  sat  first  the  two  Guests,  then  the  Elder  of  the  Dale-wardens, 
and  then  the  other  three  Burg-wardens ; as  for  the  Banner  of  the 
Burg,  its  staff  was  stuck  into  the  earth  behind  them,  and  the 
Banner  raised  itself  in  the  morning  wind  and  flapped  and  rippled 
over  their  heads. 

There  then  they  sat,  and  folk  abided,  and  it  still  lacked  some 
minutes  of  the  due  time,  as  the  Alderman  wotted  by  the  shadow 
of  the  great  standing-stone  betwixt  him  and  the  Altar.  There- 
withal came  the  sound  of  a great  horn  from  out  of  the  wood  on 
the  north  side,  and  men  knew  it  for  the  horn  of  the  Woodland 
Carles,  and  were  glad ; for  they  could  not  think  why  they  should 
be  belated;  and  now  men  stood  up  a-tiptoe  and  on  other’s 
shoulders  to  look  over  the  heads  of  the  women  and  children  to 
behold  their  coming ; but  their  empty  place  was  at  the  south- 
west corner  of  the  ring  of  men. 

So  presently  men  beheld  them  marching  toward  their  place, 
cleaving  the  throng  of  the  women  and  children,  a great  com- 
pany ; for  besides  that  they  had  with  them  two  score  more  of 
men  under  weapons  than  on  the  day  of  the  Weapon-show,  all 
their  little  ones  and  women  and  outworn  elders  were  with  them, 
some  on  foot,  some  riding  on  oxen  and  asses.  In  their  forefront 
went  the  two  signs  of  the  Battle-shaft  and  the  War-spear.  But 
moreover,  in  front  of  all  was  borne  a great  staff  with  the  cloth 
of  a banner  wrapped  round  about  it,  and  tied  up  with  a hempen 
yarn  that  it  might  not  be  seen. 

Stark  and  mighty  men  they  looked ; tall  and  lean,  broad- 
shouldered,  dark-faced.  As  they  came  amongst  the  throng  the 
voice  of  their  horn  died  out,  and  for  a few  moments  they  fared 
on  with  no  sound  save  the  tramp  of  their  feet ; then  all  at  once 

284 


the  man  who  bare  the  hidden  banner  lifted  up  one  hand,  and  The  Song  of 
straightway  they  fell  to  singing,  and  with  that  song  they  came  the  Wolt 
to  their  place.  And  this  is  some  of  what  they  sang  : 

O white,  white  Sun,  what  things  of  wonder 
Hast  thou  beheld  from  thy  wall  of  the  sky! 

All  the  Roofs  of  the  Rich  and  the  grief  thereunder, 

As  the  fear  of  the  Earl-folk  flitteth  by  1 

Thou  hast  seen  the  Flame  steal  forth  from  the  Forest 
To  slay  the  slumber  of  the  lands. 

As  the  Dusky  Lord  whom  thou  abhorrest 
Clomb  up  to  thy  Burg  unbuilt  with  hands. 

Thou  lookest  down  from  thy  door  the  golden. 

Nor  batest  thy  wide-shining  mirth. 

As  the  ramparts  fall,  and  the  roof-trees  olden 
Lie  smouldering  low  on  the  burning  earth. 

When  flitteth  the  half-dark  night  of  summer 
From  the  face  of  the  murder  great  and  grim, 

’Tis  thou  thyself  and  no  new-comer 
Shines  golden-bright  on  the  deed  undim. 

Art  thou  our  friend,  O Day-dawn’s  Lover  ? 

Full  oft  thine  hand  hath  sent  aslant 

Bright  beams  athwart  the  Wood-bear’s  cover, 

Where  the  feeble  folk  and  the  nameless  haunt. 

Thou  hast  seen  us  quail,  thou  hast  seen  us  cower. 

Thou  hast  seen  us  crouch  in  the  Green  Abode, 

While  for  us  wert  thou  slaying  slow  hour  by  hour. 

And  smoothing  down  the  war-rough  road. 

285 


The  banner 
displayed. 


Yea,  the  rocks  of  the  Waste  were  thy  Dawns  upheaving, 
To  let  the  days  of  the  years  go  through ; 

And  thy  Noons  the  tangled  brake  were  cleaving 
The  slow-foot  seasons’  deed  to  do. 

Then  gaze  adown  on  this  gift  of  our  giving, 

For  the  WOLF  comes  wending  frith  and  ford. 

And  the  Folk  fares  forth  from  the  dead  to  the  living, 

For  the  love  of  the  Lief  by  the  light  of  the  Sword. 

Then  ceased  the  song,  and  the  whole  band  of  the  Woodlanders 
came  pouring  tumultuously  into  the  space  allotted  them,  like 
the  waters  pouring  over  a river-dam,  their  white  swords  waving 
aloft  in  the  morning  sunlight ; and  wild  and  strange  cries  rose 
up  from  amidst  them,  with  sobbing  and  weeping  of  Joy.  But 
soon  their  troubled  front  sank  back  into  ordered  ranks,  their  bright 
blades  stood  upright  in  their  hands  before  them,  and  folk  looked  on 
their  company,  and  deemed  it  the  very  Terror  of  battle  and  Render 
of  the  ranks  of  war.  Right  well  were  they  armed  ; for  though 
many  of  their  weapons  were  ancient  and  somewhat  worn,  yet 
were  they  the  work  of  good  smiths  of  old  days ; and  moreover, 
if  any  of  them  lacked  good  war-gear  of  his  own,  that  had  the 
Alderman  and  his  sons  made  good  to  them. 

But  before  the  hedge  of  steel  stood  the  two  tall  men  who  held 
in  their  hands  the  war-tokens  of  the  Battle-shaft  and  the  War- 
spear,  and  betwixt  them  stood  one  who  was  indeed  the  tallest 
man  of  the  whole  assembly,  who  held  the  great  staff  of  the  hidden 
banner.  And  now  he  reached  up  his  hand,  and  plucked  at  the 
yarn  that  bound  it,  which  of  set  purpose  was  but  feeble,  and  tore 
it  off,  and  then  shook  the  staff  aloft  with  both  hands,  and  shouted, 
and  lo  ! the  Banner  of  the  Wolf  with  the  Sun-burst  behind  him, 
glittering-bright,  new-woven  by  the  women  of  the  kindred,  ran 
out  in  the  fresh  wind,  and  flapped  and  rippled  before  His  warriors 
there  assembled. 


286 


Then  from  all  over  the  Mote-stead  arose  an  exceeding  great 
shout,  and  all  men  waved  aloft  their  weapons ; but  the  men  of 
Shadowy  Vale  who  were  standing  amidst  the  men  of  the  Face 
knew  not  how  to  demean  themselves,  and  some  of  them  ran  forth 
into  the  Field  and  leapt  for  joy,  tossing  their  swords  into  the 
air,  and  catching  them  by  the  hilts  as  they  fell : and  amidst  it 
all  the  Woodlanders  now  stood  silent,  immoving,  as  men  abiding 
the  word  of  onset. 

As  for  that  brother  and  sister  : the  Sun-beam  flushed  red  all 
over  her  face,  and  pressed  her  hands  to  her  bosom,  and  then  the 
passion  of  tears  over-mastered  her,  and  her  breast  heaved,  and 
the  tears  gushed  out  of  her  eyes,  and  her  body  was  shaken  with 
weeping.  But  Folk-might  sat  still,  looking  straight  before  him, 
his  eyes  glittering,  his  teeth  set,  his  right  hand  clutching  hard  at 
the  hilts  of  his  sword,  which  lay  naked  across  his  knees.  And  the 
Bride,  who  stood  clad  in  her  begemmed  and  glittering  war-array 
in  the  forefront  of  the  Men  of  the  Steer,  nigh  unto  the  seats  of 
the  chieftains,  beheld  Folk-might,  and  her  face  flushed  and 
brightened,  and  still  she  looked  upon  him.  The  Alderman’s 
face  was  as  of  one  pleased  and  proud  ; yet  was  its  joy  shadowed 
as  it  were  by  a cloud  of  compassion.  Face-of-god  sat  like  the 
very  image  of  the  War-god,  and  stirred  not,  nor  looked  toward 
the  Sun-beam  ; for  still  the  thought  of  the  after-grief  of  battle, 
and  the  death  of  friends  and  folk  that  loved  him,  lay  heavy  on 
his  heart,  for  all  that  it  beat  wildly  at  the  shouting  of  the  men. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII.  OF  THE  GREAT  FOLK-MOTE: 
ATONEMENTS  GIVEN,  AND  MEN  MADE  SACKLESS. 

Amidst  the  clamour  uprose  the  Alderman;  for  it  was  clear 
to  all  men  that  the  Folk-mote  should  be  holden  at  once,  and 
the  matters  of  the  War,  and  the  Fellowship,  and  the  choos- 
ing of  the  War-leader,  speedily  dealt  with.  So  the  Alderman  fell 

287 


High-hearted 
are  men. 


The  Folk- 
mote 

hallowed-in. 


to  hallowing  in  the  Folk-mote  : he  went  up  to  the  Altar  of  the 
Gods,  and  took  the  Gold-ring  off  it,  and  did  it  on  his  arm ; then  he 
drew  his  sword  and  waved  it  toward  the  four  airts,  and  spake;  and 
the  noise  and  shouting  fell,  and  there  was  silence  but  for  him  : 

‘ Herewith  I hallow  in  this  Folk-mote  of  the  Men  of  the  Dale 
and  the  Sheepcotes  and  the  Woodland,  in  the  name  of  the  War- 
rior and  the  Earth-god  and  the  Fathers  of  the  kindreds.  Now 
let  not  the  peace  of  the  Mote  be  broken.  Let  not  man  rise  against 
man,  or  bear  blade  or  hand,  or  stick  or  stone  against  any.  If  any 
man  break  the  Peace  of  the  Holy  Mote,  let  him  be  a man  accursed, 
a wild-beast  in  the  Holy  Places ; an  outcast  fromhome  and  hearth, 
from  bed  and  board,  from  mead  and  acre  ; not  to  be  holpen  with 
bread,  nor  flesh,  nor  wine  ; nor  flax,  nor  wool,  nor  any  cloth  ; nor 
with  sword,  nor  shield,  nor  axe,  nor  plough-share  ; nor  with  horse, 
nor  ox,  nor  ass ; with  no  saddle-beast  nor  draught-beast ; nor  with 
wain,  nor  boat,  nor  way-leading ; nor  with  fire  nor  water ; nor  with 
any  world’s  wealth.  Thus  let  him  who  hath  cast  out  man  be  cast 
out  by  man.  Now  is  hallowed-in  the  Folk-mote  of  the  Men  of 
the  Dale  and  the  Sheepcotes  and  the  Woodlands.’ 

Therewith  he  waved  his  sword  again  toward  the  four  airts, 
and  went  and  sat  down  in  his  place.  But  presently  he  arose 
again,  and  said : 

‘ Now  if  man  hath  aught  to  say  against  man,  and  claimeth 
boot  of  any,  or  would  lay  guilt  on  any  man’s  head,  let  him  come 
forth  and  declare  it ; and  the  judges  shall  be  named,  and  the  case 
shall  be  tried  this  afternoon  or  to-morrow.  Yet  first  I shall  tell 
you  that  I,  the  Alderman  of  the  Dalesmen,  doomed  one  Iron- face 
of  the  House  of  the  Face  to  pay  a double  fine,  for  that  he  drew 
a sword  at  the  Gate-thing  of  Burgstead  with  the  intent  to  break 
the  peace  thereof.  Thou,  Green-sleeve,  bring  forth  the  peace- 
breaker’s  fine,  that  Iron-face  may  lay  the  same  on  the  Altar.’ 

Then  came  forth  a man  from  the  men  of  the  Face  bearing  a 
bag,  and  he  brought  it  to  Iron-face,  who  went  up  to  the  Altar  and 
poured  forth  weighed  gold  from  the  bag  thereon,  and  said : 


< Warden  of  the  Dale,  come  thou  and  weigh  it !’  Penny-thumb 

‘ N ay,’  quoth  the  W arden,  * it  needeth  not,  no  man  here  doubteth  cometh  forth, 
thee,  Alderman  Iron-face/ 

A murmur  of  yeasay  went  up,  and  none  had  a word  to  say 
against  the  Alderman,  but  they  praised  him  rather  : also  men 
were  eager  to  hear  of  the  war,  and  the  fellowship,  and  to  be 
done  with  these  petty  matters.  Then  the  Alderman  rose  again 
and  said  : 

‘ Hath  any  man  a grief  against  any  other  of  the  Kindreds  of 
the  Dale,  or  the  Sheepcotes,  or  the  Woodlands  ? ’ 

None  answered  or  stirred ; so  after  he  had  waited  a while, 
he  said : 

^ Is  there  any  who  hath  any  guilt  to  lay  against  a Stranger, 
an  Outlander,  being  such  a man  as  he  deems  we  can  come  at  ? ’ 

Thereat  was  a stir  amongst  the  Men  of  the  Fleece  of  the 
Shepherds,  and  their  ranks  opened,  and  there  came  forth  an  ill- 
favoured  lean  old  man,  long-nebbed,  blear-eyed,  and  bent,  girt 
with  a rusty  old  sword,  but  not  otherwise  armed.  And  all  men 
knew  Penny-thumb,  who  had  been  ransacked  last  autumn.  As 
he  came  forth,  it  seemed  as  if  his  neighbours  had  been  trying  to 
hold  him  back  ; but  a stout,  broad-shouldered  man,  black-haired 
and  red-bearded,  made  way  for  the  old  man,  and  led  him  out  of 
the  throng,  and  stood  by  him ; and  this  man  was  well  armed  at 
all  points,  and  looked  a doughty  carle.  He  stood  side  by  side  with 
Penny-thumb,  right  in  front  of  the  men  of  his  house,  and  looked 
about  him  at  first  somewhat  uneasily,  as  though  he  were  ashamed 
of  his  fellow ; but  though  many  smiled,  none  laughed  aloud  ; 
and  they  forbore,  partly  because  they  knew  the  man  to  be  a good 
man,  partly  because  of  the  solemn  tide  of  the  Folk-mote,  and 
partly  in  sooth  because  they  wished  all  this  to  be  over,  and  were 
as  men  who  had  no  time  for  empty  mirth. 

Then  said  the  Alderman : * What  wouldest  thou.  Penny-thumb, 
and  thou,  Bristler,  son  of  Brightling  ? ’ 

Then  Penny-thumb  began  to  speak  in  a high  squeaky  voice  : 

289  P P 


Folk-might 
taketh  the 
guilt  on  him. 


‘Alderman,  and  Lord  of  the  Folk!’ — But  therewithal  Bristler 
pulled  him  back,  and  said  : 

‘ I am  the  man  who  hath  taken  this  quarrel  upon  me,  and  have 
sworn  upon  the  Holy  Boar  to  carry  this  feud  through;  and  we 
deem,  Alderman,  that  if  they  who  slew  Rusty  and  ransacked 
Penny-thumb  be  not  known  now,  yet  they  soon  may  be.’ 

As  he  spake,  came  forth  those  three  men  of  the  Shepherds  and  the 
two  Dalesmen  who  had  sworn  with  him  on  the  Holy  Boar.  Then 
up  stood  Folk-might,  and  came  forth  into  the  field,  and  said: 

‘ Bristler,  son  of  Brightling,  and  }'e  other  good  men  and  true, 
it  is  but  sooth  that  the  ransackers  and  the  sla}"er  may  soon  be 
known ; and  here  I declare  them  unto  you  : I it  was  and  none 
other  who  slew  Rusty ; and  I was  the  leader  of  those  who  ran- 
sacked Penny-thumb,  and  cowed  Harts-bane  of  Greentofts.  As 
for  the  slaying  of  Rusty,  I slew  him  because  he  chased  me,  and 
would  not  forbear,  so  that  I must  either  slay  or  be  slain,  as  hath 
befallen  me  erewhile,  and  will  befall  again,  methinks.  As  for  the 
ransacking  of  Penny-thumb,  I needed  the  goods  that  I took,  and  he 
needed  them  not,  since  he  neither  used  them,  nor  gave  them  away, 
and,  they  being  gone,  he  hath  lived  no  worser  than  aforetime. 
Now  I say,  that  if  }^e  will  take  the  outlawry  off  me,  which,  as  I 
hear,  ye  laid  upon  me,  not  knowing  me,  then  will  I handsel  self- 
doom to  thee,  Bristler,  if  thou  wilt  bear  thy  grief  to  purse,  and 
I will  pay  thee  what  thou  wilt  out  of  hand ; or  if  perchance  thou 
wilt  call  me  to  Holm,  thither  will  I go,  if  thou  and  I come  unslain 
out  of  this  war.  As  to  the  ransacking  and  cowing  of  Harts-bane, 
I say  that  I am  sackless  therein,  because  the  man  is  but  a ruffier 
and  a man  of  violence,  and  hath  cowed  many  men  of  the  Dale ; 
and  if  he  gainsay  me,  then  do  I call  him  to  the  Holm  after  this 
war  is  over;  either  him  or  any  man  who  will  take  his  place  before 
my  sword.’ 

Then  he  held  his  peace,  and  man  spake  to  man,  and  a murmur 
arose,  as  they  said  for  the  more  part  that  it  was  a fair  and  manly 
offer.  But  Bristler  called  his  fellows  and  Penny-thumb  to  him, 

290 


and  they  spake  together ; and  sometimes  Penny-thumb’s  shrill  Bristler’s 
squeak  was  heard  above  the  deep-voiced  talk  of  the  others ; for  dooming, 
he  was  a man  that  harboured  malice.  But  at  last  Bristler  spake 
out  and  said : 

‘Tall  man,  we  know  that  thou  art  a chieftain  and  of  good  will 
to  the  men  of  the  Dale  and  their  friends,  and  that  want  drave 
thee  to  the  ransacking,  and  need  to  the  manslaying,  and  neither 
the  living  nor  the  dead  to  whom  thou  art  guilty  are  to  be  called 
good  men  ; therefore  will  I bring  the  matter  to  purse,  if  thou  wilt 
handsel  me  self- doom.’ 

‘ Yea,  even  so  let  it  be,’  quoth  Folk-might ; and  stepped  for- 
f/ard  and  took  Bristler  by  the  hand,  and  handselled  him  self-doom , 

Then  said  Bristler : 

‘ Though  Rusty  was  no  good  man,  and  though  he  followed 
thee  to  slay  thee,  yet  was  he  in  his  right  therein,  since  he  was 
following  up  his  goodman’s  gear  ; therefore  shalt  thou  pay  a full 
blood-wite  for  him,  that  is  to  say,  the  worth  of  three  hundreds  in 
weed-stuff  in  whatso  goods  thou  wilt.  As  for  the  ransacking  of 
Penny-thumb,  he  shall  deem  himself  well  paid  if  thou  give  him  four 
hundreds  in  weed-stuff  for  that  which  thou  didst  borrow  of  him.’ 

Then  Penny-thumb  set  up  his  squeak  again,  but  no  man  hear- 
kened to  him,  and  each  man  said  to  his  neighbour  that  it  was 
well  doomed  of  Bristler,  and  neither  too  much  nor  too  little. 

But  Folk-might  bade  Wood- wont  to  bring  thither  to  him  that 
which  he  had  borne  to  the  Mote  ; and  he  brought  forth  a big  sack, 
and  Folk-might  emptied  it  on  the  earth,  and  lo ! the  silver  rings  of 
the  slain  felons,  and  they  lay  in  a heap  on  the  green  field,  and  they 
were  the  best  of  silver.  Then  the  Elder  of  the  Dale-wardens 
weighed  out  from  the  heap  the  blood-wite  for  Rusty,  according 
to  the  due  measure  of  the  hundred  in  weed-stuff,  and  delivered  it 
unto  Bristler.  And  Folk-might  said  : 

‘ Draw  nigh  now.  Penny-thumb,  and  take  what  thou  wilt  of 
this  gear,  which  I need  not,  and  grudge  not  at  me  henceforward.’ 

But  Penny-thumb  was  afraid,  and  abode  where  he  was ; and 

291 


Penny-thumb 
taketh  home 
silver. 


Bristler  laughed,  and  said  : ‘ Take  it,  goodman,  take  it ; spare 
not  other  men’s  goods  as  thou  dost  thine  own.’ 

And  Folk-might  stood  by,  smiling  faintly  : so  Penny- thumb 
plucked  up  a heart,  and  drew  nigh  trembling,  and  took  what  he 
durst  from  that  heap ; and  all  that  stood  by  said  that  he  had  gotten 
a full  double  of  what  had  been  awarded  to  him.  But  as  for  him^ 
he  went  his  ways  straight  from  the  Mote-stead,  and  made  no  stay 
till  he  had  gotten  him  home,  and  laid  the  silver  up  in  a strong 
coffer ; and  thereafter  he  bewailed  him  sorely  that  he  had  not 
taken  the  double  of  that  which  he  took,  since  none  would  have 
said  him  nay. 

When  he  was  gone,  the  Alderman  arose  and  said  : 

‘ Now,  since  the  fines  have  been  paid  duly  and  freely,  according 
to  the  dooming  of  Bristler,  take  we  off  the  outlawry  from  Folk- 
might  and  his  fellows,  and  account  them  to  be  sackless  before  us.’ 
Then  he  called  for  other  cases  ; but  no  man  had  aught  more  to 
bring  forward  against  any  man,  either  of  the  kindreds  or  the 
Strangers. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX.  OF  THE  GREAT  FOLK-MOTE  : MEN 
TAKE  REDE  OF  THE  WAR-FARING,  THE  FELLOWSHIP,, 
AND  THE  WAR-LEADER.  FOLK-MIGHT  TELLETH 
WHENCE  HIS  PEOPLE  CAME.  THE  FOLK-MOTE  SUN- 
DERED. 

NOW  a great  silence  fell  upon  the  throng,  and  they  stood 
as  men  abiding  some  new  matter.  Unto  them  arose  the 
Alderman,  and  said  : 

‘ Men  of  the  Dale,  and  ye  Shepherds  and  Woodlanders ; it  is 
well  known  to  you  that  we  have  foemen  in  the  wood  and  beyond 
it ; and  now  have  we  gotten  sure  tidings,  that  they  will  not  abide 
at  home  or  in  the  wood,  but  are  minded  to  fall  upon  us  at  home. 
Now  therefore  I will  not  ask  you  whether  ye  will  have  peace 

292 


or  war  ; for  with  these  foemen  ye  may  have  peace  no  otherwise 
save  by  war.  But  if  ye  think  with  me,  three  things  have  ye  to 
determine  : first,  whether  ye  will  abide  your  foes  in  your  own 
houses,  or  will  go  meet  them  at  theirs ; next,  whether  ye  will  take 
to  you  as  fellows  in  arms  a valiant  folk  of  the  children  of  the 
Gods,  who  are  foemen  to  our  foemen  ; and  lastly,  what  man  ye 
will  have  to  be  your  War-leader.  Now,  I bid  all  those  here 
assembled,  to  speak  hereof,  any  man  of  them  that  will,  either  what 
they  may  have  conceived  in  their  own  minds,  or  what  their  kin- 
dred may  have  put  into  their  mouths  to  speak.’ 

Therewith  he  sat  down,  and  in  a little  while  came  forth  old 
Hall-ward  of  the  House  of  the  Steer,  and  stood  before  the  Aider- 
man,  and  said  : ‘ O Alderman,  all  we  say  : Since  war  is  awake  we 
will  not  tarry,  but  will  go  meet  our  foes  while  it  is  yet  time.  The 
valiant  men  of  whom  thou  tellest  shall  be  our  fellows,  were  there 
but  three  of  them.  We  know  no  better  War-leader  than  Face- 
of-god  of  the  House  of  the  Face.  Let  him  lead  us.’ 

Therewith  he  went  his  ways  ; and  next  came  forth  War- well, 
and  said  : ^ The  House  of  the  Bridge  would  have  Face-of-god 
for  War-leader,  these  tall  men  for  fellows,  and  the  shortest  way 
to  meet  the  foe.’  And  he  w’ent  back  to  his  place. 

Next  came  Fox  of  Upton,  and  said  : ‘ Time  presses,  or  much 
might  be  spoken.  Thus  saith  the  House  of  the  Bull  : Let  us  go 
meet  the  foe,  and  take  these  valiant  strangers  for  way-leaders, 
and  Face-of-god  for  War-leader.’  And  he  also  went  back  again. 

Then  came  forth  two  men  together,  an  old  man  and  a young, 
and  the  old  man  spake  as  soon  as  he  stood  still  : ^ The  Men  of  the 
Vine  bid  me  say  their  will : They  will  not  stay  at  home  to  have 
their  houses  burned  over  their  heads,  themselves  slain  on  their 
own  hearths,  and  their  wives  haled  off  to  thralldom.  They  will 
take  any  man  for  their  fellow  in  arms  who  will  smite  stark  strokes 
on  their  side.  They  know  Face-of-god,  and  were  liefer  of  him 
for  War-leader  than  any  other,  and  they  will  follow  him  whereso- 
ever he  leadeth.  Thus  my  kindred  biddeth  me  say,  and  I hight 

293 


The  chiefs 
give  forth 
their  words  on 
the  matters  of 
the  war. 


More  chiefs 
give  their 
deeming  of 
the  war. 


Fork-beard  of  Lea.  If  I live  through  this  war,  I shall  have  lived 
through  five.’ 

Therewith  he  went  back  to  his  place ; but  the  young  man  lifted 
up  his  voice  and  said  : ‘ To  all  this  I say  yea,  and  so  am  I bidden 
by  the  kindred  of  the  Sickle.  I am  Red-beard  of  the  Knolls, 
the  son  of  my  father.’  And  he  went  to  his  place  again. 

Then  came  forth  Stone-face,  and  said  : ‘ The  House  of  the 
Face  saith:  Lead  us  through  the  wood,  O Face-of-god,  thou 
War-leader,  and  ye  warriors  of  the  Wolf.  I am  Stone-face, 
as  men  know,  and  this  word  hath  been  given  to  me  by  the  kin- 
dred.’ And  he  took  his  place  again. 

Then  came  forth  together  the  three  chiefs  of  the  Shepherds,  to 
wit  Hound-under-Greenbury,  Strongitharm,  and  the  Hyllier ; 
and  Strongitharm  spake  for  all  three,  and  said : 

‘ The  Men  of  Greenbury,  and  they  of  the  Fleece  and  the 
Thorn,  are  of  one  accord,  and  bid  us  say  that  they  are  well  pleased 
to  have  Face-of-god  for  War-leader;  and  that  they  will  follow 
him  and  the  warriors  of  the  Wolf  to  live  or  die  with  them  ; and 
that  they  are  ready  to  go  meet  the  foe  at  once,  and  will  not  skulk 
behind  the  walls  of  Greenbury.’ 

Therewith  the  three  went  back  again  to  their  places. 

Then  came  forth  that  tall  man  that  bare  the  Banner  of  the 
Wolf,  when  he  had  given  the  staff  into  the  hands  of  him  who 
stood  next.  He  came  and  stood  over  against  the  seat  of  the  chief- 
tains ; and  for  a while  he  could  say  no  word,  but  stood  struggling 
with  the  strong  passion  of  his  joy;  but  at  last  he  lifted  his  hands 
aloft,  and  cried  out  in  a loud  voice : 

‘ O war,  war  ! O death  ! O wounding  and  grief!  O loss  of 
friends  and  kindred  ! let  all  this  be  rather  than  the  drawing 
back  of  meeting  hands  and  the  sundering  of  yearning  hearts  ! ’ 
and  he  went  back  hastily  to  his  place.  But  from  the  ranks  of 
the  Woodlanders  ran  forth  a young  man,  and  cried  out : 

‘ As  is  the  word  of  Red-wolf,  so  is  my  word,  Bears-bane  of 
Carlstead;  and  this  is  the  word  which  our  little  Folk  hath  put 

294 


into  our  mouths ; and  O ! that  our  hands  may  show  the  mean- 
ing of  our  mouths ; for  nought  else  can.’ 

Then  indeed  went  up  a great  shout,  though  many  forebore  to 
cry  out ; for  now  were  they  too  much  moved  for  words  or  sounds. 
And  in  special  was  Face-of-god  moved  ; and  he  scarce  knew 
which  way  to  look,  lest  he  should  break  out  into  sobs  and  weep- 
ing ; for  of  late  he  had  been  much  among  the  Woodlanders,  and 
loved  them  much. 

Then  all  the  noise  and  clamour  fell,  and  it  was  to  men  as  if 
they  who  had  come  thither  a folk,  had  now  become  an  host  of  war. 
But  once  again  the  Alderman  rose  up  and  spake  : 

‘ Now  have  ye  yeasaid  three  things  : That  we  take  Face-of- 
god  of  the  House  of  the  Face  for  our  War-leader;  that  we  fare 
under  weapons  at  once  against  them  who  would  murder  us ; and 
that  we  take  the  valiant  Folk  of  the  Wolf  for  our  fellows  in  arms.’ 
Therewith  he  stayed  his  speech,  and  this  time  the  shout  arose 
clear  and  most  mighty,  with  the  tossing  up  of  swords  and  the 
clashing  of  weapons  on  shields. 

Then  he  said : ‘ Now,  if  any  man  will  speak,  here  is  the  War- 
leader,  and  here  is  the  chief  of  our  new  friends,  to  answer  to  whatso 
any  of  the  kindred  would  have  answered.’ 

Thereon  came  forth  the  Fiddle  from  amongst  the  Men  of  the 
Sickle,  and  drew  somewhat  nigh  to  the  Alderman,  and  said  : 

‘ Alderman,  we  would  ask  of  the  War-leader  if  he  hath  devised 
the  manner  of  our  assembling,  and  the  way  of  our  war-faring,  and 
the  day  of  our  hosting.  More  than  this  I will  not  ask  of  him, 
because  we  wot  that  in  so  great  an  assembly  it  may  be  that  the 
foe  may  have  some  spy  of  whom  we  wot  not ; and  though  this 
be  not  likely,  yet  some  folk  may  babble  ; therefore  it  is  best  for 
the  wise  to  be  wise  everywhere  and  always.  Therefore  my  rede 
it  is,  that  no  man  ask  any  more  concerning  this,  but  let  it  lie  with 
the  War-leader  to  bring  us  face  to  face  with  the  foe  as  speedily 
as  he  may.’ 

All  men  said  that  this  was  well  counselled.  But  Face-of-god 

295 


The  War- 
leader  chosen: 
the  fellowship 
yeasaid,  and 
also  the  on- 
slaught on 
the  Dusky 
Men. 


Folk-might  is 
asked  con- 
cerning 
whence  and 
what  he  is. 


arose  and  said : ‘ Ye  Men  of  the  Dale,  ye  Shepherds  and  Wood- 
landers,  meseemeth  the  Fiddle  hath  spoken  wisely.  Now  there- 
fore I answer  him  and  say,  that  I have  so  ordered  everything 
since  the  Gate-thing  was  holden  at  Burgstead,  that  we  may 
come  face  to  face  with  the  foemen  by  the  shortest  of  roads.  Every 
man  shall  be  duly  summoned  to  the  Hosting,  and  if  any  man  fail, 
let  it  be  accounted  a shame  to  him  for  ever.’ 

A great  shout  followed  on  his  words,  and  he  sat  down  again. 
But  Fox  of  Upton  came  forth  and  said: 

‘O  Alderman,  we  have  yeasaid  the  fellowship  of  the  valiant 
men  who  have  come  to  us  from  out  of  the  waste  ; but  this  we 
have  done,  not  because  we  have  known  them,  otherwise  than  by 
what  our  kinsman  Face-of-god  hath  told  us  concerning  them, 
but  because  we  have  seen  clearly  that  they  will  be  of  much  avail 
to  us  in  our  warfare.  Now,  therefore,  if  the  tall  chieftain  who 
sitteth  beside  thee  were  to  do  us  to  wit  what  he  is,  and  whence 
he  and  his  are  come,  it  were  well,  and  fain  were  we  thereof ; but 
if  he  listeth  not  to  tell  us,  that  also  shall  be  well.’ 

Then  arose  Folk-might  in  his  place  ; but  or  ever  he  could  open 
his  mouth  to  speak,  the  tall  Red-wolf  strode  forward  bearing 
with  him  the  Banner  of  the  Wolf  and  the  Sun-burst,  and  came 
and  stood  beside  him  ; and  the  wind  ran  through  the  folds  of 
the  banner,  and  rippled  it  out  above  the  heads  of  those  twain. 
Then  Folk-might  spake  and  said : 


‘ O Men  of  the  Dale  and  the  Sheepcotes,  I will  do  as  ye  bid  me  do ; 
And  fain  were  ye  of  the  story  if  every  deal  ye  knew. 

But  long,  long  were  its  telling,  were  I to  tell  it  all : 

Let  it  bide  till  the  Cup  of  Deliverance  ye  drink  from  hall  to  hall. 


‘ Like  you  we  be  of  the  kindreds,  of  the  Sons  of  the  Gods  we  come. 
Midst  the  Mid-earth’s  mighty  Woodland  of  old  wehadour  home  ; 
But  of  older  time  we  abided  ’neath  the  mountains  of  the  Earth, 
O’er  which  the  Sun  ariseth  to  waken  woe  and  mirth. 

296 


Great  were  we  then  and  many ; but  the  long  days  wore  us  thin, 
And  war,  wherein  the  winner  hath  weary  work  to  win. 

And  the  woodland  wall  behind  us  e’en  like  ourselves  was  worn, 
And  the  tramp  of  the  hosts  of  thsfoemenadown  its  glades  was  borne 
On  the  wind  that  bent  our  wheat-fields.  So  in  the  morn  we  rose. 
And  left  behind  the  stubble  and  the  autumn-fruited  close, 

And  went  our  ways  to  the  westward,  nor  turned  aback  to  see 
The  glare  of  our  burning  houses  rise  over  brake  and  tree. 

But  the  foe  was  fierce  and  speedy,  nor  long  they  tarried  there. 
And  through  the  woods  of  battle  our  laden  wains  must  fare  ; 
And  the  Sons  of  the  Wolf  were  minished,  and  the  maids  of  the 
Wolf  waxed  few, 

As  amidst  the  victory-singing  we  fared  the  wild- wood  through. 


Folk-might 
telleth  how 
his  kindred 
came  to  those 
mountains. 


‘ So  saith  the  ancient  story,  that  west  and  west  we  went. 
And  many  a day  of  battle  we  had  in  brake,  on  bent ; 
Whilst  here  a while  we  tarried,  and  there  we  hastened  on. 
And  still  the  battle-harvest  from  many  a folk  we  won. 


‘ Of  the  tale  of  the  days  who  wotteth  ? Of  the  years  what  man 
can  tell, 

While  the  Sons  of  the  Wolf  were  wandering,  and  knew  not  where 
to  dwell  ? 

But  at  last  we  clomb  the  mountains,  and  mickle  was  our  toil. 
As  high  the  spear-wood  clambered  of  the  drivers  of  the  spoil ; 
And  tangled  were  the  passes  and  the  beacons  flared  behind, 
And  the  horns  of  gathering  onset  came  up  upon  the  wind. 

So  saith  the  ancient  story,  that  we  stood  in  a mountain-cleft. 
Where  the  ways  and  the  valle37S  sundered  to  the  right  hand  and 
the  left. 

There  in  the  place  of  sundering  all  woeful  was  the  rede ; 

We  knew  no  land  before  us,  and  behind  was  heavy  need. 

As  the  sword  cleaves  through  the  byrny,  so  there  the  mountain  flank 
Cleft  through  the  God-kin’s  people;  and  ne’er  again  we  drank 

297  cia 


Now  Red-  The  wine  of  war  together,  or  feasted  side  by  side 

wolf  singeth.  In  the  Feast-hall  of  the  Warrior  on  the  fruit  of  the  battle-tide. 

For  there  we  turned  and  sundered;  unto  the  North  we  went 
And  up  along  the  waters,  and  the  clattering  stony  bent ; 

And  unto  the  South  and  the  Sheepcotes  down  went  our  sister’s  sons ; 
And  O for  the  years  passed  over  since  we  saw  those  valiant  ones ! ^ 

He  ceased,  and  laid  his  right  hand  on  the  banner-staff  a little 
below  the  left  hand  of  Red- wolf ; and  men  were  so  keen  to  hear 
each  word  that  he  spake,  that  there  was  no  cry  nor  sound  of 
voices  when  he  had  done,  only  the  sound  of  the  rippling  banner 
of  the  Wolf  over  the  heads  of  those  twain.  The  Sun-beam 
bowed  her  head  now,  and  wept  silently.  But  the  Bride,  she  had 
drawn  her  sword,  and  held  it  upright  in  her  hand  before  her,  and 
the  sun  smote  fire  from  out  of  it. 

Then  it  was  but  a little  while  before  Red-wolf  lifted  up  his 
voice,  and  sang  : 

* Hearken  a wonder,  O Folk  of  the  Field, 

How  they  that  did  sunder  stand  shield  beside  shield ! 

Lo ! the  old  wont  and  manner  by  fearless  folk  made. 

On  the  Bole  of  the  Banner  the  brothers’  hands  laid. 

Lo ! here  the  token  of  what  hath  betid ! 

Grown  whole  is  the  broken,  found  that  which  was  hid. 

Now  one  way  we  follow  whatever  shall  befall ; 

As  seeketh  the  swallow  his  yesteryear’s  hall. 

Seldom  folk  fewer  to  fight-stead  hath  fared ; 

Ne’er  have  men  truer  the  battle-reed  bared. 

Grey  locks  now  I carry,  and  old  am  I grown. 

Nor  looked  I to  tarry  to  meet  with  mine  own. 

298 


For  we  who  remember  the  deeds  of  old  days 
Were  nought  but  the  ember  of  battle  ablaze. 


How  the  Sons 
of  the  Wolf 
came  to  Silver- 
dale. 


For  what  man  might  aid  us  ? what  deed  and  what  day 
Should  come  where  Weird  laid  us  aloof  from  the  way  ? 

What  man  save  that  other  of  Twain  rent  apart. 

Our  war-friend,  our  Brother,  the  piece  of  our  heart. 

Then  hearken  the  wonder  how  shield  beside  shield 
The  twain  that  did  sunder  wend  down  to  the  Field  ! * 

Now  when  he  had  made  an  end,  men  could  no  longer  fore- 
bear the  shout ; and  it  went  up  into  the  heavens,  and  was  borne 
by  the  west-wind  down  the  Dale  to  the  ears  of  the  stay-at-home 
women  and  men  unmeet  to  go  abroad,  and  it  quickened  their 
blood  and  the  spirits  within  them  as  they  heard  it,  and  they 
smiled  and  were  fain ; for  they  knew  that  their  kinsfolk  were  glad. 

But  when  there  was  quiet  on  the  Mote-field  again.  Folk-might 
spake  again  and  said  ; 

‘ It  is  sooth  that  my  Brother  sayeth,  and  that  now  again  we  wend, 
All  the  Sons  of  the  Wolf  together,  till  the  trouble  hath  an  end. 
But  as  for  that  tale  of  the  Ancients,  it  saith  that  we  who  went 
To  the  northward,  climbed  and  stumbled  o’er  many  a stony  bent. 
Till  we  happed  on  that  isle  of  the  waste-land,  and  the  grass  of 
Shadowy  Vale, 

Where  we  dwelt  till  we  throve  a little,  and  felt  our  might  avail. 
Then  we  fared  abroad  from  the  shadow  and  the  little-lighted  hold, 
And  the  increase  fell  to  the  valiant,  and  the  spoil  to  the  battle-bold, 
And  never  a man  gainsaid  us  with  the  weapons  in  our  hands  ; 
And  in  Silver-dale  the  happy  we  gat  us  life  and  lands. 


‘ So  wore  the  years  o’er-wealthy ; and  meseemeth  that  ye  know 
Howwe  sowed  and  reaped  destruction,  and  the  Dayofthe  overthrow: 

299 


offerings  to 
the  Gods. 


How  we  leaned  on  the  staff  we  had  broken,  and  put  our  lives  in 
the  hand 

Of  those  whom  we  had  vanquished  and  the  feeble  of  the  land  ; 
And  these  were  the  stone  of  stumbling,  and  the  burden  not  to  be  borne, 
When  the  battle-blast  fell  on  us  and  our  day  was  over-worn. 
Thus  then  did  our  wealth  bewray  us,  and  left  us  wise  and  sad ; 
And  to  you,  bold  men,  it  falleth  once  more  to  make  us  glad. 

If  so  your  hearts  are  bidding,  and  ye  deem  the  deed  of  worth. 
Such  were  we  ; what  we  shall  be,  ’tis  yours  to  say  henceforth.’ 

He  said  furthermore  : ‘ How  great  we  have  been  I have  told 
you  already ; and  ye  shall  see  for  yourselves  how  little  we  be  now. 
Is  it  enough,  and  will  ye  have  us  for  friends  and  brothers  ? How 
say  ye  ? ^ 

They  answered  with  shout  upon  shout,  so  that  all  the  place 
and  the  wild-wood  round  about  was  full  of  the  voice  of  their  cry- 
ing ; but  when  the  clamour  fell,  then  spake  the  Alderman  and  said ; 

‘ Friend,  and  chieftain  of  the  Wolf,  thou  mayst  hear  by  this 
shouting  of  the  people  that  we  have  no  mind  to  naysay  our  yea- 
say.  And  know  that  it  is  not  our  use  and  manner  to  seek  the 
strong  for  friends,  and  to  thrust  aside  the  weak ; but  rather  to 
choose  for  our  friends  them  who  are  of  like  mind  to  us,  men  in 
whom  we  put  our  trust.  From  henceforth  then  there  is  brother- 
hood between  us ; we  are  yours,  and  ye  are  ours ; and  let  this 
endure  for  ever  ! ^ 

Then  were  all  men  full  of  joy ; and  now  at  last  the  battle 
seemed  at  hand,  and  the  peace  beyond  the  battle. 

Then  men  brought  the  hallowed  beasts  all  garlanded  with 
flowers  into  the  Doom-ring,  and  there  were  they  slain  and  offered 
up  unto  the  Gods,  to  wit  the  Warrior,  the  Earth-god,  and  the 
F athers ; and  thereafter  was  solemn  feast  holden  on  the  F ield  of  the 
Folk-mote,  and  all  men  were  fain  and  merry.  Nevertheless,  not 
all  men  abode  there  the  feast  through  ; for  or  ever  the  afternoon 
was  well  worn,  were  many  men  wending  along  the  Portway 

300 


eastward  toward  the  Upper  Dale,  each  man  in  his  war-gear  and 
with  a scrip  hung  about  him  ; and  these  were  they  who  were 
bound  for  the  trysting-place  and  the  journey  over  the  waste. 

So  the  Folk-mote  was  sundered;  and  men  went  to  their  houses, 
and  there  abode  in  peace  the  time  of  their  summoning  ; since 
they  wotted  well  that  the  Hosting  was  afoot. 

But  as  for  the  Woodlanders,  who  were  at  the  Mote-stead  with 
all  their  folk,  women,  children,  and  old  men,  they  went  not  back 
again  to  Carlstead ; but  prayed  the  neighbours  of  the  Middle 
Dale  to  suffer  them  to  abide  there  awhile,  which  they  yeasaid 
with  a good  will.  So  the  Woodlanders  tilted  themselves  in, 
the  more  part  of  them,  down  in  the  meadows  below  the  Mote- 
stead,  along  either  side  of  Wildlake’s  Way  ; but  their  ancient 
folk,  and  some  of  the  women  and  children,  the  neighbours  would 
have  into  their  houses,  and  the  rest  they  furnished  with  victual 
and  all  that  they  needed  without  price,  looking  upon  them  as  their 
very  guests.  For  indeed  they  deemed  that  they  could  see  that 
these  men  would  never  return  to  Carlstead,  but  would  abide  with 
the  Men  of  the  Wolf  in  Silver-dale,  once  it  were  won.  And  this 
they  deemed  but  meet  and  right,  yet  were  they  sorry  thereof ; for 
the  Woodlanders  were  well  beloved  of  all  the  Dalesmen  ; and 
now  that  they  had  gotten  to  know  that  they  were  come  of  so  noble 
a kindred,  they  were  better  beloved  yet,  and  more  looked  upon. 


CHAPTER  XL.  OF  THE  HOSTING  IN  SHADOWY  VALE. 

IT  was  on  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day  after  the  Folk-mote 
that  there  came  through  the  Waste  to  the  rocky  edge  of 
Shadowy  V ale  a band  oi  some  fifteen  score  of  men-at-arms,  and 
with  them  a multitude  of  women  and  children  and  old  men,  some 
afoot,  some  riding  on  asses  and  bullocks ; and  with  them  were  sump- 
ter  asses  and  neat  laden  with  household  goods,  and  a few  goats 
and  kine.  And  this  was  the  whole  folk  of  the  Woodlanders  come 

301 


The  Wood- 
landers abide 
the  Hosting 
in  the  Dale. 


The  Wood- 
landers  come 
to  Shadowy 
Vale. 


to  the  Hosting  in  Shadowy  Vale  and  the  Home  of  the  Children 
of  the  Wolf.  Their  leaders  of  the  way  were  Wood-father  and 
Wood- wont  and  two  other  carles  of  Shadowy  Vale  ; and  Red- 
wolf  the  tall,  and  Bears-bane  and  War-grove  were  the  captains 
and  chieftains  of  their  company. 

Thus  then  they  entered  into  the  narrow  pass  aforesaid,  which 
was  the  ingate  to  the  Vale  from  the  Waste,  and  little  by  little 
its  dimness  swallowed  up  their  long  line.  As  they  went  by  the 
place  where  the  lowering  of  the  rock-wall  gave  a glimpse  of  the 
valley,  they  looked  down  into  it  as  Face-of-god  had  done,  but 
much  change  was  there  in  little  time.  There  was  the  black  wall 
of  crags  on  the  other  side  stretching  down  to  the  ghyll  of  the 
great  Force ; there  ran  the  deep  green  waters  of  the  Shivering 
Flood ; but  the  grass  which  Face-of-god  had  seen  naked  of  every- 
thing but  a few  kine,  thereon  now  the  tents  of  men  stood  thick. 
Their  hearts  swelled  within  them  as  they  beheld  it,  but  they  fore- 
bore the  shout  and  the  cry  till  they  should  be  well  within  the  Vale, 
and  so  went  down  silently  into  the  darkness.  But  as  their  eyes 
caught  that  dim  image  of  the  Wolf  on  the  wall  of  the  pass,  man 
pointed  it  out  to  man,  and  not  a few  turned  and  kissed  it  hurriedly ; 
and  to  them  it  seemed  that  many  a kiss  had  been  laid  on  that 
dear  token  since  the  days  of  old,  and  that  the  hard  stone  had  been 
worn  away  by  the  fervent  lips  of  men,  and  that  the  air  of  the 
mirk  place  yet  quivered  with  the  vows  sworn  over  the  sword-blade. 

But  down  through  the  dark  they  went,  and  so  came  on  to  the 
stony  scree  at  the  end  of  the  pass  and  into  the  Vale ; and  the  whole 
Folk  save  the  three  chieftains  flowed  over  it  and  stood  about  it 
down  on  the  level  grass  of  the  Vale.  But  those  three  stood  yet 
on  the  top  of  the  scree,  bearing  the  war-signs  of  the  Shaft  and 
the  Spear,  and  betwixt  them  the  banner  of  the  Wolf  and  the  Sun- 
burst newly  displayed  to  the  winds  of  Shadowy  Vale. 

Up  and  down  the  Vale  they  looked,  and  saw  before  the  tents 
of  men  the  old  familiar  banners  of  Burgdale  rising  and  falling  in 
the  evening  wind.  But  amidst  of  the  Doom-ring  was  pitched  a 

302 


great  banner,  whereon  was  done  the  image  of  the  Wolf  with  red  Folk-might 
gaping  Jaws  on  a field  of  green  ; and  about  him  stood  other  ban-  greeteth 
ners,  to  wit,  The  Silver  Arm  on  a red  field,  the  Red  Hand  on 
a white  field,  and  on  green  fields  both,  the  Golden  Bushel  and  the 
Ragged  Sword. 

All  about  the  plain  shone  glittering  war-gear  of  men  as  they 
moved  hither  and  thither,  and  a stream  of  folk  began  at  once  to 
draw  toward  the  scree  to  look  on  those  new-comers  ; and  amidst 
the  helmed  Burgdalers  and  the  white-coated  Shepherds  went  the 
tall  men  of  the  Wolf,  bare-headed  and  unarmed  save  for  their 
swords,  mingled  with  the  fair  strong  women  of  the  kindred,  tread- 
ing barefoot  the  soft  grass  of  their  own  Vale. 

Presently  there  was  a great  throng  gathered  round  about  the 
Woodlanders,  and  each  man  as  he  joined  it  waved  hand  or  wea- 
pon toward  them,  and  the  joy  of  their  welcome  sent  a confused 
clamour  through  the  air.  Then  forth  from  the  throng  stepped 
Folk-might,  unarmed  save  his  sword,  and  behind  him  was  Face- 
of-god,  in  his  war-gear  save  his  helm,  hand  in  hand  with  the  Sun- 
beam, who  was  clad  in  her  goodly  flowered  green  kirtle,  her  feet 
naked  like  her  sisters  of  the  kindred. 

Then  Folk-might  cried  aloud : ‘ A full  and  free  greeting  to  our 
brothers  ! Well  be  ye,  O Sons  of  our  Ancient  Fathers!  And  to- 
day are  ye  the  dearer  to  us  because  we  see  that  ye  have  brought 
us  a gift,  to  wit,  your  wives  and  children,  and  your  grandsires  un- 
meet for  war.  By  this  token  we  see  how  great  is  your  trust  in 
us,  and  that  it  is  your  meaning  never  to  sunder  from  us  again.  O 
well  be  ye ; well  be  ye  ! ’ 

Then  spake  Red-wolf,  and  said  : ‘ Ye  Sons  of  the  Wolf,  who 
parted  from  us  of  old  time  in  that  cleft  of  the  mountains,  it  is  our 
very  selves  that  we  give  unto  you  ; and  these  are  a part  of  our- 
selves ; how  then  should  we  leave  them  behind  us  ? Bear  wit- 
ness, O men  of  Burgdale  and  the  Sheepcotes,  that  we  have  be- 
come one  Folk  with  the  men  of  Shadowy  Vale,  never  to  be  sun- 
dered again ! * 


303 


The  Sun- 
beam biddeth 
them  to  the 
feast. 


Then  all  that  multitude  shouted  with  a loud  voice ; and  when 
the  shout  had  died  away,  Folk-might  spake  again  : 

‘ O Warriors  of  the  Sundering,  here  shall  your  wives  and  chil- 
dren abide,  while  we  go  a little  journey  to  rejoice  our  hearts  with 
the  hard  handplay,  and  take  to  us  that  which  we  have  missed  : 
and  to-morrow  morn  is  appointed  for  this  same  journey,  unless  ye 
be  over  foot- weary  with  the  ways  of  the  Waste.’ 

Red-wolf  smiled  as  he  answered : * This  ye  say  in  jest,  brother ; 
for  ye  may  see  that  our  day’s  journey  hath  not  been  over-much  for 
our  old  men  ; how  then  should  it  weary  those  who  may  yet  bear 
sword  ? We  are  ready  for  the  road  and  eager  for  the  handplay.’ 
‘ This  is  well,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘ and  what  was  to  be  looked 
for.  Therefore,  brother,  do  ye  and  your  counsel-mates  come 
straightway  to  the  Hall  of  the  Wolf ; wherein,  after  ye  have 
eaten  and  drunken,  shall  we  take  counsel  with  our  brethren 
of  Burgdale  and  the  Sheepcotes,  so  that  all  may  be  ordered 
for  battle ! ’ 

Said  Red-wolf : ‘ Good  is  that,  if  we  must  needs  abide  till  to- 
morrow ; for  verily  we  came  not  hither  to  eat  and  drink  and  rest 
our  bodies ; but  it  must  be  as  ye  will  have  it.’ 

Then  the  Sun-beam  left  the  hand  of  Face-of-god  and  came  for- 
ward, and  held  out  both  her  palms  to  the  Woodland- folk,  and  spake 
in  a voice  that  was  heard  afar,  though  it  were  a woman’s,  so  clear 
and  sweet  it  was ; and  she  said  : 

‘O  Warriors  of  the  Sundering,  ye  who  be  not  needed  in  the 
Hall,  and  ye  our  sisters  with  your  little  ones  and  your  fathers, 
come  now  to  us  and  down  to  the  tents  which  we  have  arrayed  for 
you,  and  there  think  for  a little  that  we  are  all  at  our  very  home 
that  we  long  for  and  have  yet  to  win,  and  be  ye  merry  with  us 
and  make  us  merry.’ 

Therewith  she  stepped  forward  daintily  and  entered  into  their 
throng,  and  took  an  old  man  of  the  Woodlanders  by  the  hand,  and 
kissed  his  cheek  and  led  him  away,  and  the  coming  rest  seemed 
sweet  to  him.  And  then  came  other  women  of  the  Vale,  kind  and 

304 


fair  and  smiling,  and  led  away,  some  an  old  mother  of  the  Wood-  The  Feast  in 

landers,  some  a young  wife,  some  a pair  of  lads ; and  not  a few  Shadowy 

forsooth  kissed  and  embraced  the  stark  warriors,  and  went  away 

with  them  toward  the  tents,  which  stood  along  the  side  of  the 

Shivering  Flood  where  it  was  at  its  quietest ; for  there  was  the 

grass  the  softest  and  most  abundant.  There  on  the  green  grass 

were  tables  arrayed,  and  lamps  were  hung  above  them  on  spears, 

to  be  litten  when  the  daylight  should  fail.  And  the  best  of  the 

victual  which  the  Vale  could  give  was  spread  on  the  boards,  along 

with  wine  and  dainties,  bought  in  Silver-dale,  or  on  the  edges  of 

the  Westland  with  sword-strokes  and  arrow-flight. 

There  then  they  feasted  and  were  merry ; and  the  Sun-beam 
and  Bow-may  and  the  other  women  of  the  Vale  served  them  at 
table,  and  were  very  blithe  with  them,  caressing  them  with  soft 
words,  and  with  clipping  and  kissing,  as  folk  who  were  grown  ex- 
ceeding dear  to  them ; so  that  that  eve  of  battle  was  softer  and 
sweeter  to  them  than  any  hour  of  their  life.  With  these  feasters 
were  God-swain  and  Spear-fist  of  the  delivered  thralls  of  Silver- 
dale  as  glad  as  glad  might  be ; but  Wolf-stone  their  eldest  was 
gone  with  Dallach  to  the  Council  in  the  Hall. 

The  men  of  Burgdale  and  the  Shepherds  feasted  otherwhere 
in  all  content,  nor  lacked  folk  of  the  Vale  to  serve  them.  Amongst 
the  men  of  the  Face  were  the  ten  delivered  thralls  who  had  heart 
to  meet  their  masters  in  arms  : seven  of  them  were  of  Rose-dale 
and  three  of  Silver-dale. 

The  Bride  was  with  her  kindred  of  the  Steer,  with  whom  were 
many  men  of  Shadowy  Vale,  and  she  served  her  friends  and  fellows 
clad  in  her  war-gear,  save  helm  and  hauberk,  bearing  herself  as 
one  who  is  serving  dear  guests.  And  men  equalled  her  for  her 
beauty  to  the  Gcds  of  the  High  Place  and  the  Choosers  of  the 
Slain ; and  they  who  had  not  beheld  her  before  marvelled  at  her, 
and  her  loveliness  held  all  men’s  hearts  in  a net  of  desire,  so  that 
they  forebore  their  meat  to  gaze  upon  her ; and  if  perchance  her 
hand  touched  some  young  man,  or  her  cheek  or  sweet-breathed 

305  RR 


The  Bride  by  mouth  came  nigh  to  his  face,  he  became  bewildered  and  wist  not 
Staff-stone.  where  he  was,  nor  what  to  do.  Yet  was  she  as  lowly  and  simple 
of  speech  and  demeanour  as  if  she  were  a gooseherd  of  four- 
teen winters. 

In  the  Hall  was  a goodly  company,  and  all  the  leaders  of  the 
Folk  were  therein,  and  Folk-might  and  the  War-leader  sitting 
in  the  midst  of  those  ^stone  seats  on  the  dais.  There  then  they 
agreed  on  the  whole  ordering  of  the  battle  and  the  wending  of  the 
host,  as  shall  be  told  later  on ; and  this  matter  was  long  a-doing, 
and  when  it  was  done,  men  went  to  their  places  to  sleep,  for  the 
night  was  well  worn. 

But  when  men  had  departed  and  all  was  still,  Folk-might, 
light-clad  and  without  a weapon,  left  the  Hall  and  walked  briskly 
toward  the  nether  end  of  the  Vale.  He  passed  by  all  the  tents, 
the  last  whereof  were  of  the  House  of  the  Steer,  and  came  to  a 
place  where  was  a great  rock  rising  straight  up  from  the  plain 
like  sheaves  of  black  staves  standing  close  together  ; and  it  was 
called  Staff-stone,  and  tales  of  the  elves  had  been  told  concerning 
it,  so  that  Stone-face  had  beheld  it  gladly  the  day  before. 

The  moon  was  just  shining  into  Shadowy  Vale,  and  the  grass 
was  bright  wheresoever  the  shadows  of  the  high  cliffs  were  not, 
and  the  face  of  Staff-stone  shone  bright  grey  as  Folk-might  came 
within  sight  of  it,  and  he  beheld  someone  sitting  at  the  base  of 
the  rock,  and  as  he  drew  nigher  he  saw  that  it  was  a woman, 
and  knew  her  for  the  Bride  ; for  he  had  prayed  her  to  abide 
him  there  that  night,  because  it  was  nigh  to  the  tents  of  the 
House  of  the  Steer ; and  his  heart  was  glad  as  he  drew  nigh  to  her. 

She  sat  quietly  on  a fragment  of  the  black  rock,  clad  as  she 
had  been  all  day,  in  her  glittering  kirtle,  but  without  hauberk 
or  helm,  a wreath  of  wind-flowers  about  her  head,  her  feet  crossed 
over  each  other,  her  hands  laid  palm  uppermost  in  her  lap.  She 
moved  not  as  he  drew  nigh,  but  said  in  a gentle  voice  when  he 
was  close  to  her  : 

* Chief  of  the  Wolf,  great  warrior,  thou  wouldest  speak  with 

306 


me ; and  good  it  is  that  friends  should  talk  together  on  the  eve  Folk-might 
of  battle,  when  they  may  never  meet  alive  again.’  askethaboon. 

He  said : ‘ My  talk  shall  not  be  long  ; for  thou  and  I both 
must  sleep  to-night,  since  there  is  work  to  hand  to-morrow.  Now 
since,  as  thou  sayest,  O fairest  of  women,  we  may  never  meet 
again  alive,  I ask  thee  now  at  this  hour,  when  we  both  live  and 
are  near  to  one  another,  to  suffer  me  to  speak  to  thee  of  my  love 
of  thee  and  desire  for  thee.  Surely  thou,  who  art  the  sweetest 
of  all  things  the  Gods  and  the  kindreds  have  made,  wilt  not  gain- 
say me  this  ? ’ 

She  said  very  sweetly,  yet  smiling  : ‘ Brother  of  my  father’s 
sons,  how  can  I gainsay  thee  thy  speech?  Nay,  hast  thou  not 
said  it  ? What  more  canst  thou  add  to  it  that  will  have  fresh 
meaning  to  mine  ears  ? ’ 

He  said  : ‘ Thou  sayest  sooth  : mig:ht  I then  but  kiss  thine 
hand  ? ’ 

She  said,  no  longer  smiling  : ‘ Yea  surely,  even  so  may  all  men 
do  who  can  be  called  my  friends — and  thou  art  much  my  friend.’ 

He  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it,  and  held  it  thereafter ; nor 
did  she  draw  it  away.  The  moon  shone  brightly  on  them  ; but 
by  its  light  he  could  not  see  if  she  reddened,  but  he  deemed  that 
her  face  was  troubled.  Then  he  said  : ‘ It  were  better  for  me 
if  I might  kiss  thy  face,  and  take  thee  in  mine  arms.’ 

Then  said  she  : ^ This  only  shall  a man  do  with  me  when  I 
long  to  do  the  like  with  him.  And  since  thou  art  so  much  my 
friend,  I will  tell  thee  that  as  for  this  longing,  I have  it  not. 

Bethink  thee  what  a little  while  it  is  since  the  lack  of  another 
man’s  love  grieved  me  sorely.’ 

‘ The  time  is  short,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘if  we  tell  up  the  hours 
thereof ; but  in  that  short  space  have  a many  things  betid.’ 

She  said : ‘ Dost  thou  know,  canst  thou  guess,  how  sorely 
ashamed  I went  amongst  my  people?  I durst  look  no  man  in 
the  face  for  the  aching  of  mine  heart,  which  methought  all  might 
see  through  my  face.’ 


307 


He  kisseth 
and  em- 
braceth  her. 


‘ I knew  it  well,’  he  said  ; * yet  of  me  wert  thou  not  ashamed 
but  a little  while  ago,  when  thou  didst  tell  me  of  thy  grief.’ 

She  said  : ‘ True  it  is  ; and  thou  wert  kind  to  me.  Thou  didst 
become  a dear  friend  to  me,  methought.’ 

‘ And  wilt  thou  hurt  a dear  friend  ? ’ said  he. 

‘ O no,’  she  said,  ‘ if  I might  do  otherwise.  Yet  how  if  I might 
not  choose  ? Shall  there  be  no  forgiveness  for  me  then  ? ’ 

He  answered  nothing;  and  still  he  held  her  hand  that  strove 
not  to  be  gone  from  his,  and  she  cast  down  her  eyes.  Then  he 
spake  in  a while  : 

‘ My  friend,  I have  been  thinking  of  thee  and  of  me  ; and  now 
hearken  : if  thou  wilt  declare  that  thou  feelest  no  sweetness 
embracing  thine  heart  when  I say  that  I desire  thee  sorely,  as 
now  I say  it ; or  when  I kiss  thine  hand,  as  now  I kiss  it ; or 
when  I pray  thee  to  suffer  me  to  cast  mine  arms  about  thee  and 
kiss  thy  face,  as  now  I pray  it : if  thou  wilt  say  this,  then  will 
I take  thee  by  the  hand  straightway,  and  lead  thee  to  the  tents 
of  the  House  of  the  Steer,  and  say  farewell  to  thee  till  the  battle 
is  over.  Canst  thou  say  this  out  of  the  truth  of  thine  heart  ? ’ 
She  said : * What  then  if  I cannot  say  this  word  ? What 
then  ? ’ 

But  he  answered  nothing ; and  she  sat  still  a little  while,  and 
then  arose  and  stood  before  him,  looking  him  in  the  eyes,  and  said  : 
‘ I cannot  say  it.’ 

Then  he  caught  her  in  his  arms  and  strained  her  to  him,  and 
then  kissed  her  lips  and  her  face  again  and  again,  and  she  strove 
not  with  him.  But  at  last  she  said  : 

‘ Yet  after  all  this  shalt  thou  lead  me  back  to  my  folk  straight- 
way; and  when  the  battle  is  done,  if  both  we  are  living,  then  shall 
we  speak  more  thereof.’ 

So  he  took  her  hand  and  led  her  on  toward  the  tents  of  the 
Steer,  and  for  a while  he  spake  nought ; for  he  doubted  himself, 
what  he  should  say ; but  at  last  he  spake  ; 

‘ Now  is  this  better  for  me  than  if  it  had  not  been,  whether  I 

30S 


live  or  whether  I die.  Yet  thou  hast  not  said  that  thou  lovest  They  say 
me  and  desirest  me.’  iarewell. 

‘ Wilt  thou  compel  me  ? ’ she  said.  ‘ To-night  I may  not  sa}’^ 
it.  Who  shall  say  what  words  my  lips  shall  fashion  when  we 
stand  together  victorious  in  Silver-dale ; then  indeed  may  the  time 
seem  long  from  now.’ 

He  said  : ‘ Yea,  true  is  that ; yet  once  again  I say  that  so 
measured  long  and  long  is  the  time  since  first  I saw  thee  in  Burg- 
dale  before  thou  knewest  me.  Yet  now  I will  not  bicker  with 
thee,  for  be  sure  that  I am  glad  at  heart.  And  io  you  ! our  feet 
have  brought  us  to  the  tents  of  thy  people.  All  good  go  with  thee ! ’ 

* And  with  thee,  sweet  friend,’  she  said.  Then  she  lingered  a 
little,  turning  her  head  toward  the  tents,  and  then  turned  her 
face  toward  him  and  laid  her  hand  on  his  neck,  and  drew  his 
head  adown  to  her  and  kissed  his  cheek,  and  therewith  swiftly 
and  lightly  departed  from  him. 

Now  the  night  wore  and  the  morning  came;  and  Face-of-god 
was  abroad  very  early  in  the  morning,  as  his  custom  was  ; and 
he  washed  the  night  from  off  him  in  the  Carles’  Bath  of  the  Shiver- 
ing Flood,  and  then  went  round  through  the  encampment  of  the 
host,  and  saw  none  stirring  save  here  and  there  the  last  watchmen 
of  the  night.  He  spake  with  one  or  two  of  these,  and  then  went 
up  to  the  head  of  the  Vale,  where  was  the  pass  that  led  to  Silver- 
dale  ; and  there  he  saw  the  watch,  and  spake  with  them,  and 
they  told  him  that  none  had  as  yet  come  forth  from  the  pass,  and 
he  bade  them  to  blow  the  horn  of  warning  to  rouse  up  the  Host 
as  soon  as  the  messengers  came  thence.  For  forerunners  had  been 
sent  up  the  pass,  and  had  been  set  to  hold  watch  at  divers  places 
therein  to  pass  on  the  word  from  place  to  place. 

Thence  went  Face-of-god  back  toward  the  Hall;  but  when 
he  was  yet  some  way  from  it,  he  saw  a slender  glittering  warrior 
come  forth  from  the  door  thereof,  who  stood  for  a moment  looking 
round  about,  and  then  came  lightly  and  swiftly  toward  him  ; 
and  lo  ! it  was  the  Sun-beam,  with  a long  hauberk  over  her  kirtle 

309 


The  Sun- 
beam clad  in 
war-gear. 


falling  below  her  knees,  a helm  on  her  head  and  plated  shoes  on 
her  feet.  She  came  up  to  him,  and  laid  her  hand  to  his  cheek 
and  the  golden  locks  of  his  head  (for  he  was  bare-headed),  and 
said  to  him,  smiling  : 

‘ Gold-mane  ! thou  badest  me  bear  arms,  and  Folk-might  also 
constrained  me  thereto.  Lo  thou  ! ’ 

Said  Face-of-god:  ‘Folk-might  is  wise  then,  even  as  I am; 
and  forsooth  as  thou  art.  For  bethink  thee  if  the  bow  drawn  at 
a venture  should  speed  the  eyeless  shaft  against  thy  breast,  and 
send  me  forth  a wanderer  from  my  Folk!  For  how  could  I bear 
the  sight  of  the  fair  Dale,  and  no  hope  to  see  thee  again  therein  ? ’ 
She  said  : ‘ The  heart  is  light  within  me  to-day.  Deemest 
thou  that  this  is  strange  ? Or  dost  thou  call  to  mind  that  which 
thou  spakest  the  other  day,  that  it  was  of  no  avail  to  stand  in 
the  Doom-ring  of  the  Folk  and  bear  witness  against  ourselves? 
This  will  I not.  This  is  no  light-mindedness  that  thou  beholdest 
in  me,  but  the  valiancy  that  the  Fathers  have  set  in  mine  heart. 
Deem  not,  O Gold-mane,  fear  not,  that  we  shall  die  before  they 
dight  the  bride-bed  for  us.’ 

He  would  have  kissed  her  mouth,  but  she  put  him  away  with 
her  hand,  and  doffed  her  helm  and  laid  it  on  the  grass,  and  said  : 
‘ This  is  not  the  last  time  that  thou  shalt  kiss  me.  Gold-mane, 
my  dear ; and  yet  I long  for  it  as  if  it  were,  so  high  as  the 
Fathers  have  raised  me  up  this  morn  above  fear  and  sadness.’ 
He  said  nought,  but  drew  her  to  him,  and  wonder  so  moved 
him,  that  he  looked  long  and  closely  at  her  face  before  he  kissed 
her  ; and  forsooth  he  could  find  no  blemish  in  it : it  was  as  if  it 
were  but  new  come  from  the  smithy  of  the  Gods,  and  exceeding 
longing  took  hold  of  him.  But  even  as  their  lips  met,  from  the 
head  of  the  Vale  came  the  voice  of  the  great  horn  ; and  it  was 
answered  straightway  by  the  watchers  all  down  the  tents ; and 
presently  arose  the  shouts  of  men  and  the  clash  of  weapons  as 
folk  armed  themselves,  and  laughter  therewith,  for  most  men 
were  battle-merry,  and  the  cries  of  women  shrilly-clear  as  they 

310 


hastened  about,  busy  over  the  morning  meal  before  the  departure 
of  the  Host.  But  Face-of-god  said  softly,  still  caressing  the  Sun- 
beam, and  she  him  : 

‘ Thus  then  we  depart  from  this  Valley  of  the  Shadows,  but 
as  thou  saidst  when  first  we  met  therein,  there  shall  be  no  sundering 
of  thee  and  me,  but  thou  shalt  go  down  with  me  to  the  battle.’ 

And  he  led  her  by  the  hand  into  the  Hall  of  the  Wolf,  and 
there  they  ate  a morsel,  and  thereafter  Face-of-god  tarried  not, 
but  busied  himself  along  with  Folk-might  and  the  other  chieftains 
in  arraying  the  Host  for  departure. 


CHAPTER  XLI.  THE  HOST  DEPARTETH  FROM 
SHADOWY  VALE  : THE  FIRST  DAY’S  JOURNEY. 

IT  was  about  three  hours  before  noon  that  the  Host  began  to 
enter  into  the  pass  out  of  Shadowy  Vale  by  the  river-side; 
and  the  women  and  children,  and  men  unfightworthy,  stood 
on  the  higher  ground  at  the  foot  of  the  cliffs  to  see  the  Host 
wend  on  the  way.  Of  these  a many  were  of  the  Woodlanders, 
who  were  now  one  folk  with  them  of  Shadowy  Vale.  And  all 
these  had  chosen  to  abide  tidings  in  the  Vale,  deeming  that  there 
was  little  danger  therein,  since  that  last  slaughter  which  Folk- 
might  had  made  of  the  Dusky  Men;  albeit  Face-of-god  had 
offered  to  send  them  all  to  Burgstead  with  two  score  and  ten 
men-at-arms  to  guard  them  by  the  way  and  to  eke  out  the  warders 
of  the  Burg. 

Now  the  fighting-men  of  Shadowy  Vale  were  two  long  hun- 
dreds lacking  five ; of  whom  two  score  and  ten  were  women, 
and  three  score  and  ten  lads  under  twenty  winters ; but  the 
women,  though  you  might  scarce  see  fairer  of  face  and  body, 
were  doughty  in  arms,  all  good  shooters  in  the  bow ; and  the 
swains  were  eager  and  light-foot,  cragsmen  of  the  best,  wont  to 
scaling  the  cliffs  of  the  Vale  in  search  of  the  nests  of  gerfalcons 

3^1 


The  Host 
gathereth  for 
departure. 


The  order  of  and  such-like  fowl,  and  swimming  the  strong  streams  of  the 
their  faring.  Shivering  Flood ; tough  bodies  and  wiry,  stronger  than  most 
grown  men,  and  as  fearless  as  the  best. 

The  order  of  the  Departure  of  the  Host  was  this  : 

The  Woodlanders  went  first  into  the  pass,  and  with  them 
were  two  score  of  the  ripe  Warriors  of  the  Wolf.  Then  came 
of  the  kindreds  of  Burgdale,  the  Men  of  the  Steer,  the  Bridge, 
and  the  Bull ; then  the  Men  of  the  Vine  and  the  Sickle ; then  the 
Shepherd-folk ; and  lastly,  the  Men  of  the  Face  led  by  Stone- 
face  and  Hall-face.  With  these  went  another  two  score  of  the 
dwellers  in  Shadowy  Vale,  and  the  rest  were  scattered  up  and 
down  the  bands  of  the  Host  to  guide  them  into  the  best  paths 
and  to  make  the  way  easier  to  them.  Face-of-god  was  sundered 
from  his  kindred,  and  went  along  with  Folk- might  in  the  fore- 
front of  the  Host,  while  his  father  the  Alderman  went  as  a 
simple  man-at-arms  with  his  House  in  the  rearward.  The  Sun- 
beam followed  her  brother  and  Face-of-god  amidst  the  Warriors 
of  the  Wolf,  and  with  her  were  Bow-may  clad  in  the  Alder- 
man’s gift,  and  Wood-father  and  his  children.  Bow-may  had 
caused  her  to  doff  her  hauberk  for  that  day,  whereon  they  looked 
to  fall  in  with  no  foeman.  As  for  the  Bride,  she  went  with  her 
kindred  in  all  her  war-gear  ; and  the  morning  sun  shone  in  the 
gems  of  her  apparel,  and  her  jewelled  feet  fell  like  flowers  upon 
the  deep  grass  of  the  upper  Vale,  and  shone  strange  and  bright 
amongst  the  black  stones  of  the  pass.  She  bore  a quiver  at  her 
back  and  a shining  yew  bow  in  her  hand,  and  went  amongst  the 
bowmen,  for  she  was  a very  deft  archer. 

So  fared  they  into  the  pass,  leaving  peace  behind  them,  with 
all  their  banners  displayed,  and  the  banner  of  the  Red-mouthed 
Wolf  went  with  the  Wolf  and  the  Sun-burst  in  the  forefront 
of  their  battle  next  after  the  two  captains. 

As  for  their  road,  the  grassy  space  between  the  rock- wall  and 
the  water  was  wide  and  smooth  at  first,  and  the  cliffs  rose  up 
like  bundles  of  spear-shafts  high  and  clear  from  the  green  grass 

312 


with  no  confused  litter  of  fallen  stones ; so  that  the  men  strode 
on  briskly,  their  hearts  high-raised  and  full  of  hope.  And  as 
they  went,  the  sweetness  of  song  stirred  in  their  souls,  and  at  last 
Bow-may  fell  to  singing  in  a loud  clear  voice,  and  her  cousin 
Wood-wise  answered  her,  and  all  the  warriors  of  the  Wolf  who 
were  in  their  band  fell  into  the  song  at  the  ending,  and  the  sound 
of  their  melody  went  down  the  water  and  reached  the  ears  of 
those  that  were  entering  the  pass,  and  of  those  who  were  abiding 
till  the  way  should  be  clear  of  them  : and  this  is  some  of  what 
they  sang  : 

Bow-may  singeth  : 

Hear  ye  never  a voice  come  crying 

Out  from  the  waste  where  the  winds  fare  wide? 

‘ Sons  of  the  Wolf,  the  days  are  dying. 

And  where  in  the  clefts  of  the  rocks  do  ye  hide  ? 

‘ Into  your  hands  hath  the  Sword  been  given. 

Hard  are  the  palms  with  the  kiss  of  the  hilt ; 

Through  the  trackless  waste  hath  the  road  been  riven 
For  the  blade  to  seek  to  the  heart  of  the  guilt. 

‘ And  yet  ye  bide  and  yet  ye  tarry  ; 

Dear  deem  ye  the  sleep  ’twixt  hearth  and  board, 

And  sweet  the  maiden  mouths  ye  marry. 

And  bright  the  blade  of  the  bloodless  sword.’ 

JV lod-wise  singeth  : 

Yea,  here  we  dwell  in  the  arms  of  our  Mother 

The  Shadowy  Queen,  and  the  hope  of  the  Waste; 

Here  first  we  came,  when  never  another 
Adown  the  rocky  stair  made  haste. 

Far  is  the  foe,  and  no  sword  beholdeth 

What  deed  we  work  and  whither  we  wend ; 

313  S S 


The  Song  of 
the  Sword 
Unsheathed. 


They  enter 
into  the  Pass. 


Dear  are  the  days,  and  the  Year  enfoldeth 
The  love  of  our  life  from  end  to  end. 

Voice  of  our  Fathers,  why  will  ye  move  us, 

And  call  up  the  sun  our  swords  to  behold  ? 

Why  will  ye  cry  on  the  foeman  to  prove  us  ? 

\Vhy  will  ye  stir  up  the  heart  of  the  bold  ? 

Bow-may  singeth  : 

Purblind  am  I,  the  voice  of  the  chiding  ; 

Then  tell  me  what  is  the  thing  ye  bear  ? 

What  is  the  gift  that  your  hands  are  hiding. 

The  gold-^adorned,  the  dread  and  dear  ? 

W lod-wise  singeth : 

Dark  in  the  sheath  lies  the  Anvil’s  Brother, 

Hid  is  the  hammered  Death  of  Men. 

Would  ye  look  on  the  gift  of  the  green-clad  Mother  ? 

How  then  shall  ye  ask  for  a gift  again  ? 

The  IV irriors  sing  : 

Show  we  the  Sunlight  the  Gift  of  the  Mother, 

As  foot  follows  foot  to  the  foeman’s  den ! 

Gleam  Sun,  breathe  Wind,  on  the  Anvil’s  Brother, 

For  bare  is  the  hammered  Death  of  Men. 

Therewith  they  shook  their  naked  swords  in  the  air,  and  fared 
on  eagerly,  and  as  swiftly  as  the  pass  would  have  them  fare.  But 
so  it  was,  that  when  the  rearward  of  the  Host  was  entering  the 
first  of  the  pass,  and  was  going  on  the  wide  smooth  sward,  the 
vanward  was  gotten  to  where  there  was  but  a narrow  space  clear 
betwixt  water  and  cliff ; for  otherwhere  was  a litter  of  great 
rocks  and  small,  hard  to  be  threaded  even  by  those  who  knew  the 
passes  well;  so  that  men  had  to  tread  along  the  very  verge  of  the 
Shivering  Flood,  and  wary  must  they  be,  for  the  water  ran  swift 

3H 


and  deep  betwixt  banks  of  sheer  rock  half  a fathom  below  their  The  toilsome 
very  foot-soles,  which  had  but  bare  space  to  go  on  the  narrow  and  perilous 
way.  So  it  held  on  for  a while,  and  then  got  safer,  and  there  was 
more  space  for  going  betwixt  cliff  and  flood;  albeit  it  was  toil- 
some enough,  since  for  some  way  yet  there  was  a drift  of  stones 
to  cumber  their  feet,  some  big  and  some  little,  and  some  very  big. 

After  a while  the  way  grew  better,  though  here  and  there,  where 
the  cliffs  lowered,  were  wide  screes  of  loose  stones  that  they  must 
needs  climb  up  and  down.  Thereafter  for  a space  was  there  an 
end  of  jhe  stony  cumber,  but  the  way  betwixt  the  river  and  the 
cliffs  narrowed  again,  and  the  black  crags  grew  higher,  and  at 
last  so  exceeding  high,  and  the  way  so  narrow,  that  the  sky 
overhead  was  to  them  as  though  they  were  at  the  bottom  of  a 
well,  and  men  deemed  that  thence  they  could  see  the  stars  at 
noontide.  For  some  time  withal  had  the  way  been  mounting 
up  and  up,  though  the  cliffs  grew  higher  over  it ; till  at  last  they 
were  but  going  on  a narrow  shelf,  the  Shivering  Flood  swirling 
and  rattling  far  below  them  betwixt  sheer  rock-walls  grown  ex- 
ceeding high ; and  above  them  the  cliffs  going  up  towards  the 
heavens  as  black  as  a moonless  starless  night  of  winter.  And  as 
the  flood  thundered  below,  so  above  them  roared  the  ceaseless 
thunder  of  the  wind  of  the  pass,  that  blew  exceeding  fierce  down 
that  strait  place ; so  that  the  skirts  of  their  garments  were 
wrapped  about  their  knees  by  it,  and  their  feet  were  well-nigh 
stayed  at  whiles  as  they  breasted  the  push  thereof. 

But  as  they  mounted  higher  and  higher  yet,  the  noise  of  the 
waters  swelled  into  a huge  roar  that  drowned  the  bellowing  of  the 
prisoned  wind,  and  down  the  pass  came  drifting  a fine  rain  that 
fell  not  from  the  sky,  for  between  the  clouds  of  that  drift  could 
folk  see  the  heavens  bright  and  blue  above  them.  This  rain 
was  but  the  spray  of  the  great  force  up  to  whose  steps  they 
were  climbing. 

Now  the  way  got  rougher  as  they  mounted ; but  this  toil  was 
caused  by  their  gain ; for  the  rock-wall,  which  thrust  out  a buttress 

3*5 


rhe  Force 
amidmost  the 
Pass, 


there  as  if  it  would  have  gone  to  the  very  edge  of  the  gap  where- 
through the  flood  ran,  and  so  have  cut  the  way  off  utterly,  was 
here  somewhat  broken  down,  and  its  stones  scattered  down  the 
steep  bent,  so  that  there  was  a passage,  though  a toilsome  one. 

Thus  then  through  the  wind-borne  drift  of  the  great  force, 
through  which  men  could  see  the  white  waters  tossing  down 
below,  amidst  the  clattering  thunder  of  the  Shivering  Flood 
and  the  rumble  of  the  wind  of  the  gap,  that  tore  through  their 
garments  and  hair  as  if  it  would  rend  all  to  rags  and  bear  it 
away,  the  banners  of  the  Wolf  won  their  way  to  the  crest  of  the 
midmost  height  of  the  pass,  and  the  long  line  of  the  Host  came 
clambering  after  them  ; and  each  band  of  warriors  as  it  reached 
the  top  cast  an  unheard  shout  from  amidst  the  tangled  fury  of 
wind  and  waters. 

A little  further  on  and  all  that  turmoil  was  behind  them  ; the 
sun,  now  grown  low,  smote  the  wavering  column  of  spray  from 
the  force  at  their  backs,  till  the  rainbows  lay  bright  across  it; 
and  the  sunshine  lay  wide  over  a little  valley  that  sloped  some- 
what steeply  to  the  west  right  up  from  the  edge  of  the  river;  and 
beyond  these  western  slopes  could  men  see  a low  peak  spreading 
down  on  all  sides  to  the  plain,  till  it  was  like  to  a bossed  shield, 
and  the  name  of  it  was  Shield-broad.  Dark  grey  was  the  valley 
everywhere,  save  that  by  the  side  of  the  water  was  a space  of 
bright  green-sward  hedged  about  toward  the  mountain  by  a wall 
of  rocks  tossed  up  into  wild  shapes  of  spires  and  jagged  points. 
The  river  itself  was  spread  out  wide  and  shallow,  and  went  rat- 
tling about  great  grey  rocks  scattered  here  and  there  amidst  it,  till 
it  gathered  itself  together  to  tumble  headlong  over  three  slant  steps 
into  the  mighty  gap  below. 

From  the  height  in  the  pass  those  grey  slopes  seemed  easy  to 
traverse ; but  the  warriors  of  the  Wolf  knew  that  it  was  far  other- 
wise, for  they  were  but  the  molten  rock-sea  that  in  time  long  past 
had  flowed  forth  from  Shield-broad  and  filled  up  the  whole  valley 
endlong  and  overthwart,  cooling  as  it  flowed,  and  the  tumbled 


hedge  of  rock  round  about  the  green  plain  by  the  river  was  where 
the  said  rock-sea  had  been  stayed  by  meeting  with  soft  ground, 
and  had  heaped  itself  up  round  about  the  green-sward.  And  that 
great  rock-flood  as  it  cooled  split  in  divers  fashions ; and  the  rain 
and  weather  had  been  busy  on  it  for  ages,  so  that  it  was  worn  into  a 
maze  of  narrow  paths,  most  of  which,  after  a little,  brought  the  way- 
farer to  a dead  stop,  or  else  led  him  back  again  to  the  place  whence 
he  had  started ; so  that  only  those  who  knew  the  passes  throughly 
could  thread  that  maze  without  immeasurable  labour. 

Now  when  the  men  of  the  Host  looked  from  the  high  place 
whereon  they  stood  toward  the  green  plain  by  the  river,  they  saw 
on  the  top  of  that  rock-wall  a red  pennon  waving  on  a spear,  and 
beside  it  three  or  four  weaponed  men  gleaming  bright  in  the  even- 
ing sun  ; and  the}^  waved  their  swords  to  the  Host,  and  made  light- 
ning of  the  sunbeams,  and  the  men  of  the  Host  waved  swords  to 
them  in  turn.  For  these  were  the  outguards  of  the  Host;  and  the 
place  whereon  they  were  was  at  whiles  dwelt  in  by  those  who  would 
drive  the  spoil  in  Silver-dale,  and  midmost  of  the  green-sward  was 
a booth  builded  of  rough  stones  and  turf,  a refuge  for  a score  of 
men  in  rough  weather. 

So  the  men  of  the  vanward  gat  them  down  the  hill,  and  made 
the  best  of  their  way  toward  the  grassy  plain  through  that  rocky 
maze  which  had  once  been  as  a lake  of  molten  glass ; and  as  short 
as  the  way  looked  from  above,  it  was  two  hours  or  ever  they 
came  out  of  it  on  to  the  smooth  turf,  and  it  was  moonlight  and 
night  ere  the  House  of  the  Face  had  gotten  on  to  the  green-sward. 

There  then  the  Host  abode  for  that  night,  and  after  they  had 
eaten  lay  down  on  the  green  grass  and  slept  as  they  might.  Bow- 
may  would  have  brought  the  Sun-beam  into  the  booth  with  some 
others  of  the  women,  but  she  would  not  enter  it,  because  she  deemed 
that  otherwise  the  Bride  would  abide  without ; and  the  Bride, 
when  she  came  up,  along  with  the  House  of  the  Steer,  beheld  the 
Sun-beam,  that  Wood-father’s  children  had  made  a lair  for  her 
without  like  a hare’s  form  ; and  forsooth  many  a time  had  she  lain 

317 


They  come  to 
the  Dale 
under  Shield- 
broad, 


They  leave 
the  Dale 
under  Shield- 
broad. 


under  the  naked  heaven  in  Shadowy  Vale  and  the  waste  about  it. 
even  as  the  Bride  had  in  the  meadows  of  Burgdale.  So  when  the 
Bride  was  bidden  thereto,  she  went  meekly  into  the  booth,  and  lay 
there  with  others  of  the  damsels-at-arms. 


CHAPTER  XLII.  THE  HOST  COMETH  TO  THE  EDGES 
OF  SILVER-DALE. 

SO  wore  the  night,  and  when  the  dawn  was  come  were  the  two 
captains  afoot,  and  they  went  from  band  to  band  to  see  that 
all  was  ready,  and  all  men  were  astir  betimes,  and  by  the 
time  that  the  sun  smote  the  eastern  side  of  Shield-broad  ruddy, 
they  had  broken  their  fast  and  were  dight  for  departure.  Then 
the  horns  blew  up  beside  the  banners,  and  rejoiced  the  hearts  of 
men.  But  by  the  command  of  the  captains  this  was  the  last  time 
that  they  should  sound  till  they  blew  for  onset  in  Silver-dale,  be- 
cause now  would  they  be  drawing  nigher  and  nigher  to  the  foe- 
men,  and  they  wotted  not  but  that  wandering  bands  of  them  might 
be  hard  on  the  lips  of  the  pass,  and  might  hear  the  horns’  voice, 
and  turn  to  see  what  was  toward. 

Forth  then  went  the  banners  of  the  Wolf,  and  the  men  of  the 
vanward  fell  to  threadino;  the  rock-maze  toward  the  north,  and 
in  two  hours’  time  were  clear  of  the  Dale  under  Shield-broad. 
All  went  in  the  same  order  as  yesterday;  but  on  this  day  the 
Sun-beam  would  bear  her  hauberk,  and  had  a sword  girt  to  her 
side,  and  her  heart  was  high  and  her  speech  merry. 

When  they  left  the  Dale  under  Shield-broad  the  way  was  easy 
and  wide  for  a good  way,  the  river  flowing  betwixt  low  banks, 
and  the  pass  being  more  like  a string  of  little  valleys  than  a mere 
gap,  as  it  had  been  on  the  other  side  of  the  Dale.  But  when  one 
third  of  the  day  was  past,  the  way  began  to  narrow  on  them 
again,  and  to  rise  up  little  by  little ; and  at  last  the  rock-walls 
drew  close  to  the  river,  and  when  men  looked  toward  the  north  they 

318 


saw  no  way,  and  nought  but  a wall.  For  the  gap  of  the  Shiver- 
ing Flood  turned  now  to  the  east,  and  the  Flood  came  down 
from  the  east  in  many  falls,  as  it  were  over  a fearful  stair,  through 
a gap  where  there  was  no  path  between  the  cliffs  and  the  water, 
nought  but  the  boiling  flood  and  its  turmoil ; so  that  they  who 
knew  not  the  road  wondered  what  they  should  do. 

But  Folk-might  led  the  banners  to  where  a great  buttress  of 
the  cliffs  thrust  itself  into  the  way,  coming  well-nigh  down  to  the 
water,  just  at  the  corner  where  the  river  turned  eastward,  and 
they  got  them  about  it  as  they  might,  and  on  the  other  side  thereof 
lo  ! another  gap  exceeding  strait,  scarce  twenty  foot  over,  wall- 
sided, rugged  beyond  measure,  going  up  steeply  from  the  great 
valley  : a little  water  ran  through  it,  mostly  filling  up  the 
floor  of  it  from  side  to  side  ; but  it  was  but  shallow.  This  was 
now  the  battle-road  of  the  Host,  and  the  vanward  entered  it  at 
once,  turning  their  backs  upon  the  Shivering  Flood. 

Full  toilsome  and  dreary  was  that  strait  way;  often  great 
stones  hung  above  their  heads,  bridging  the  gap  and  hiding  the 
sky  from  them  ; nor  was  there  any  path  for  them  save  the  stream 
itself ; so  that  whiles  were  they  wading  its  waters  to  the  knee 
or  higher,  and  whiles  were  they  striding  from  stone  to  stone 
amidst  the  rattle  of  the  waters,  and  whiles  were  they  stepping 
warily  along  the  ledges  of  rock  above  the  deeper  pools,  and  in  all 
wise  labouring  in  overcoming  the  rugged  road  amidst  the  twilight 
of  the  gap. 

Thus  they  toiled  till  the  afternoon  was  well  worn,  and  so  at 
last  they  came  to  where  the  rock-wall  was  somewhat  broken  down 
on  the  north  side,  and  great  rocks  had  fallen  across  the  gap,  and 
dammed  up  the  waters,  which  fell  scantily  over  the  dam  from  stone 
to  stone  into  a pool  at  the  bottom  of  it.  Up  this  breach,  then, 
below  the  force  they  scrambled  and  struggled,  for  rough  indeed 
was  the  road  for  them ; and  so  came  they  up  out  of  the  gap  on  to 
the  open  hill-side,  a great  shoulder  of  the  heath  sloping  down 
from  the  north,  and  littered  over  with  big  stones,  borne  thither 

319 


They  turn 
from  the 
Shivering 
Flood. 


The  waters 
run  toward 
Silver-dale. 


belike  by  some  ice-river  of  the  earlier  days ; and  one  great  rock 
was  in  special  as  great  as  the  hall  of  a wealthy  goodman,  and 
shapen  like  to  a hall  with  hipped  gables,  which  same  the  men 
of  the  Wolf  called  House-stone. 

There  then  the  noise  and  clatter  of  the  vanward  rose  up  on  the 
face  of  the  heath,  and  men  were  exceeding  joyous  that  they  had 
come  so  far  without  mishap.  Therewith  came  weaponed  men  out 
from  under  House-stone,  and  they  came  toward  the  men  of  the 
vanward,  and  they  were  a half-score  of  the  forerunners  of  the 
Wolf ; therefore  Folk-might  and  Face-of-god  fell  at  once  into 
speech  with  them,  and  had  their  tidings ; and  when  they  had 
heard  them,  they  saw  nought  to  hinder  the  host  from  going  on 
their  road  to  Silver-dale  forthright ; and  there  were  still  three 
hours  of  daylight  before  them.  So  the  vanward  of  the  host  tarried 
not,  and  the  captains  left  word  with  the  men  from  under  House- 
stone  that  the  rest  of  the  Host  should  fare  on  after  them  speedily, 
and  that  they  should  give  this  word  to  each  company,  as  men 
came  up  from  out  the  gap.  Then  they  fared  speedily  up  the  hill- 
side, and  in  an  hour’s  wearing  had  come  to  the  crest  thereof,  and  to 
where  the  ground  fell  steadily  toward  the  north,  and  hereabout 
the  scattered  stones  ceased,  and  on  the  other  side  of  the  crest 
the  heath  began  to  be  soft  and  boggy,  and  at  last  so  soft,  that  if 
they  had  not  been  wisely  led,  they  had  been  bemired  oftentimes. 
At  last  they  came  to  where  the  flows  that  trickled  through  the 
mires  drew  together  into  a stream,  sothatmen  could  see  it  running ; 
and  thereon  some  of  the  Woodlanders  cried  out  joyously  that 
the  waters  were  running  north  ; and  then  all  knew  that  they  were 
drawing  nigh  to  Silver-dale. 

No  man  they  met  on  the  road,  nor  did  they  of  Shadowy  Vale 
look  to  meet  any ; because  the  Dusky  Men  were  not  great  hunters 
for  the  more  part,  except  it  were  of  men,  and  especially  of  women; 
and,  moreover,  these  hill-slopes  of  the  mountain-necks  led  no- 
whither  and  were  utterly  waste  and  dreary,  and  there  was  nought 
to  be  seen  there  but  snipes  and  bitterns  and  whimbrel  and  plover, 

320 


and  here  and  there  a hill-fox,  or  the  great  erne  hanging  over  the  The  moun- 
heath  on  his  way  to  the  mountain.  tains  beyond 

When  sunset  came,  they  were  getting  clear  of  the  miry  ground,  Silver-dale, 
and  the  stream  which  they  had  come  across  amidst  of  the  mires 
had  got  clearer  and  greater,  and  rattled  down  between  wide  stony 
sides  over  the  heath ; and  here  and  there  it  deepened  as  it  cleft  its 
way  through  little  knolls  that  rose  out  of  the  face  of  the  moun- 
tain-neck. As  the  Host  climbed  one  of  these  and  was  come  to 
its  topmost  (it  was  low  enough  not  to  turn  the  stream),  Face-of- 
god  looked  and  beheld  dark-blue  mountains  rising  up  far  off 
before  him,  and  higher  than  these,  but  away  to  the  east,  the  snowy 
peaks  of  the  World-mountains.  Then  he  called  to  mind  what  he 
had  seen  from  the  Burg  of  the  Runaways,  and  he  took  Folk- 
might  by  the  arm,  and  pointed  toward  those  far-off  mountains. 

‘ Y ea,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘ so  it  is.  War-leader.  Silver-dale  lieth 
between  us  and  yonder  blue  ridges,  and  it  is  far  nigher  to  us  than 
to  them.’ 

But  the  Sun-beam  came  close  to  those  twain,  and  took  Face-of- 
god  by  the  hand  and  said : ‘ O Gold-mane,  dost  thou  see  ? ’ and 
he  turned  about  and  beheld  her,  and  saw  how  her  cheeks  flamed 
and  her  eyes  glittered,  and  he  said  in  a low  voice  : ‘ To-morrow 
for  mirth  or  silence,  for  life  or  death.’ 

But  the  whole  vanward  as  they  came  up  stayed  to  behold 
the  sight  of  the  mountains  on  the  other  side  of  Silver-dale,  and 
the  banners  of  the  Folk  hung  over  their  heads,  moving  but  little 
in  the  soft  air  of  the  evening : so  went  they  on  their  ways. 

The  sun  sank,  and  dusk  came  on  them  as  they  followed  down 
the  stream,  and  night  came,  and  was  clear  and  starlit,  though  the 
moon  was  not  yet  risen.  Now  was  the  ground  firm  and  the 
grass  sweet  and  flowery,  and  wind-worn  bushes  were  scattered 
round  about  them,  as  they  began  to  go  down  into  the  ghyll  that 
cleft  the  wall  of  Silver-dale,  and  the  night-wind  blew  in  their 
faces  from  the  very  Dale  and  place  of  the  Battle  to  be.  The 
path  down  was  steep  at  first,  but  the  ghyll  was  wide,  and  the 

321  T T 


rhe  Host 
restcth  in 
Wood-dale, 


sides  of  it  no  longer  straight  walls,  as  in  the  gaps  of  their  earlier 
journey,  but  broken,  sloping  back,  and  (as  they  might  see  on  the 
morrow)  partly  of  big  stones  and  shaly  grit,  partly  grown  over 
with  bushes  and  rough  grass,  with  here  and  there  a little  stream 
trickling  down  their  sides.  As  they  went,  the  ghyll  widened  out, 
till  at  last  they  were  in  a valley  going  down  to  the  plain,  in  places 
steep,  in  places  flat  and  smooth,  the  stream  ever  rattling  down 
the  midst  of  it,  and  they  on  the  west  side  thereof.  The  vale 
was  well  grassed,  and  oak-trees  and  ash  and  holly  and  hazel  grew 
here  and  there  about  it ; and  at  last  the  Host  had  before  it  a 
wood  which  filled  the  vale  from  side  to  side,  not  much  tangled 
with  undergrowth,  and  quite  clear  of  it  nigh  to  the  stream-side. 
Thereinto  the  vanward  entered,  but  went  no  long  way  ere  the 
leaders  called  a halt  and  bade  pitch  the  banners,  for  that  there 
should  they  abide  the  daylight.  Thus  it  had  been  determined  at  the 
Council  of  the  Hall  of  the  Wolf;  for  Folk-might  had  said  : ^ With 
an  Host  as  great  as  ours,  and  mostly  of  men  come  into  a land  of 
which  they  know  nought  at  all,  an  onslaught  by  night  is  perilous  : 
yea,  and  our  foes  should  be  over-much  scattered,  and  we  should 
have  to  wander  about  seeking  them.  Let  us  rather  abide  in  the 
wood  of  Wood-dale  till  the  morning,  and  then  display  our  banners 
on  the  hill-side  above  Silver-dale,  so  that  they  may  gather  together 
to  fall  upon  us  : in  no  case  shall  they  keep  us  out  of  the  Dale.’ 
There  then  they  stayed,  and  as  each  company  came  up  to  the 
wood,  they  were  marshalled  into  their  due  places,  so  that  they 
might  set  the  battle  in  array  on  the  edge  of  Silver-dale. 


CHAPTER  XLIII.  FACE-OF-GOD  LOOKETH  ON  SILVER- 
DALE  : THE  BOWMEN’S  BATTLE. 

There  then  they  rested,  as  folk  wearied  with  the  toilsome 
journey,  when  they  had  set  sure  watches  round  about  their 
campment ; and  they  ate  quietly  what  meat  they  had 
322 


with  them,  and  so  gat  them  to  sleep  in  the  wood  on  the  eve  of 
battle. 

But  not  all  slept ; for  the  two  captains  went  about  amongst 
the  companies,  Folk-might  to  the  east,  Face-of-god  to  the  west, 
to  look  to  the  watches,  and  to  see  that  all  was  ordered  duly. 
Also  the  Sun-beam  slept  not,  but  she  lay  beside  Bow-may  at 
the  foot  of  an  oak-tree;  she  watched  Face-of-god  as  he  went 
away  amidst  the  men  of  the  Host,  and  watched  and  waked 
abiding  his  returning  footsteps. 

The  night  was  well  worn  by  then  he  came  back  to  his  place 
in  the  vanward,  and  on  his  way  back  he  passed  through  the  folk 
of  the  Steer  laid  along  on  the  grass,  all  save  those  of  the  watch, 
and  the  light  of  the  moon  high  aloft  was  mingled  with  the  light 
of  the  earliest  dawn  ; and  as  it  happed  he  looked  down,  and  lo  ! 
close  to  his  feet  the  face  of  the  Bride  as  she  lay  beside  her  grand- 
sire,  her  head  pillowed  on  a bundle  of  bracken.  She  was  sleeping 
soundly  like  a child  who  has  been  playing  all  day,  and  whose 
sleep  has  come  to  him  unsought  and  happily.  Her  hands  were 
laid  together  by  her  side  ; her  cheek  was  as  fair  and  clear  as  it 
was  wont  to  be  at  her  best ; her  face  looked  calm  and  happy, 
and  a lock  of  her  dark-red  hair  strayed  from  her  uncovered  head 
over  her  breast  and  lay  across  her  wrists,  so  peacefully  she  slept. 

Face-of-god  turned  his  eyes  from  her  at  once,  and  went  by 
swiftly,  and  came  to  his  own  company.  The  Sun-beam  saw  him 
coming,  and  rose  straightway  to  her  feet  from  beside  Bow-may, 
who  lay  fast  asleep,  and  she  held  out  her  hands  to  him ; and  he 
took  them  and  kissed  them,  and  he  cast  his  arms  about  her  and 
kissed  her  mouth  and  her  face,  and  she  his  in  like  wise ; and  she  said ; 

‘ O Gold-mane,  if  this  were  but  the  morrow  of  to-morrow ! 
Yet  shall  all  be  well ; shall  it  not  ? ’ 

Her  voice  was  low,  but  it  waked  Bow-may,  who  sat  up  at 
once  broad  awake,  after  the  manner  of  a hunter  of  the  waste  ever 
ready  for  the  next  thing  to  betide,  and  moreover  the  Sun-beam 
had  been  in  her  thoughts  these  two  days,  and  she  feared  for  her, 

323 


Folk  lie  asleep 
about  the 
wood. 


They  talk  in  lest  she  should  be  slain  or  maimed.  Now  she  smiled  on  the 
the  dawning.  Sun-beam  and  said  : 

‘ What  is  it  ? Does  thy  mind  forebode  evil  ? That  needeth  not. 
I tell  thee  it  is  not  so  ill  for  us  of  the  sword  to  be  in  Silver-dale. 
Thrice  have  I been  there  since  the  Overthrow,  and  never  more 
than  a half-score  in  company,  and  yet  am  I whole  to-day.’ 

‘ Yea,  sister,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ but  in  past  times  ye  did  your 
deed  and  then  fled  away ; but  now  we  come  to  abide  here,  and 
this  night  is  the  last  of  lurking.’ 

‘ Ah,’  she  said,  ‘ a little  way  from  this  I saw  such  things  that 
we  had  good  will  to  abide  here  longer,  few  as  we  were,  but  that 
we  feared  to  be  taken  alive."* 

‘ What  things  were  these  ? * said  Face-of-god. 

‘ Nay,’  she  said,  ‘ I will  not  tell  thee  now  ; but  mayhap  in  the 
lighted  winter  feast-hall,  when  the  kindred  are  so  nigh  us  and 
about  us  that  they  seem  to  us  as  if  they  were  all  the  world,  I may 
tell  it  thee ; or  mayhap  I never  shall.’ 

Said  the  Sun-beam,  smiling:  ‘Thou  wilt  ever  be  talking. 
Bow-may.  Now  let  the  War-leader  depart,  for  he  will  have 
much  to  do.’ 

And  she  was  well  at  ease  that  she  had  seen  Face-of-god  again ; 
but  he  said  : 

‘ Nay,  not  so  much ; all  is  well-nigh  done ; in  an  hour  it  will 
be  broad  day,  and  two  hours  thereafter  shall  the  Banner  be  dis- 
played on  the  edge  of  Silver-dale.’ 

The  cheek  of  the  Sun-beam  flushed,  and  paled  again,  as  she 
said  : ‘Yea,  we  shall  stand  even  as  our  Fathers  stood  on  the  day 
when,  coming  from  off  the  waste,  they  beheld  it,  and  knew  it  would 
be  theirs.  Ah  me!  how  have  I longed  for  this  morn.  But  now 
— Tell  me.  Gold-mane,  dost  thou  deem  that  I am  afraid  ? And 
I whom  thou  hast  deemed  to  be  a God.’ 

Quoth  Bow-may : ‘ Thou  shalt  deem  her  twice  a God  ere  noon- 
tide, brother  Gold-mane.  But  come  now  ! the  hour  of  deadly 
battle  is  at  hand,  and  we  may  not  laugh  that  away ; and  there- 

324 


fore  I bid  thee  remember,  Gold-mane,  how  thou  didst  promise  to 
kiss  me  once  more  on  the  verge  of  deadly  battle.’ 

Therewith  she  stood  up  before  him,  and  he  tarried  not,  but 
kind  and  smiling  took  her  face  between  his  two  hands  and  kissed 
her  lips,  and  she  cast  her  arms  about  him  and  kissed  him,  and 
then  sank  down  on  the  grass  again,  and  turned  from  him,  and  laid 
her  face  amongst  the  grass  and  the  bracken,  and  they  could  see 
that  she  was  weeping,  and  her  body  was  shaken  with  sobs.  But 
the  Sun-beam  knelt  down  to  her,  and  caressed  her  with  her  hand, 
and  spake  kind  words  to  her  softly,  while  Face-of-god  went  his 
ways  to  meet  Folk-might. 

Now  was  the  dawn  fading  into  full  daylight ; and  between 
dawn  and  sunrise  were  all  men  stirring  ; for  the  watch  had  waked 
the  hundred-leaders,  and  they  the  leaders  of  scores  and  half-scores, 
and  they  the  whole  folk ; and  they  sat  quietly  in  the  wood  and 
made  no  noise. 

In  the  night  the  watch  of  the  Sickle  had  fallen  in  with  a thrall 
who  had  stolen  up  from  the  Dale  to  set  gins  for  hares,  and  now 
in  the  early  morning  they  brought  him  to  the  War-leader.  He 
was  even  such  a man  as  those  with  whom  Face-of-god  had  fallen 
in  before,  neither  better  nor  worse  than  most  of  them  : he  was 
sore  afraid  at  first,  but  by  then  he  was  come  to  the  captains  he 
understood  that  he  had  happened  upon  friends ; but  he  was  dull 
of  comprehension  and  slow  of  speech.  Albeit  Folk-might  gathered 
from  him  that  the  Dusky  Men  had  some  inkling  of  the  onslaught ; 
for  he  said  that  they  had  been  gathering  together  in  the  market- 
place of  Silver-stead,  and  would  do  so  again  soon.  Moreover, 
the  captains  deemed  from  his  speech  that  those  new  tribes  had 
come  to  hand  sooner  than  was  looked  for,  and  were  even  now  in 
the  Dale.  Folk-might  smiled  as  one  who  is  not  best  pleased 
when  he  heard  these  tidings ; but  Face-of-god  was  glad  to  hear 
thereof;  for  what  he  loathed  most  was  that  the  war  should  drag 
out  in  hunting  of  scattered  bands  of  the  foe.  Herewith  came 
Dallachtothem  as  they  talked  (for  Face-of-god  had  sent  for  him), 

32s 


They  come 
on  a man  of 
the  Dale. 


Evil  deeds  of 
the  Dusky 
Men, 


and  he  fell  to  questioning  the  man  further ; by  whose  answers  it 
seemed  that  many  men  also  had  come  into  the  Dale  from  Rose- 
dale,  so  that  they  of  the  kindreds  were  like  to  have  their  hands 
full.  Lastly  Dallach  drew  from  the  thrall  that  it  was  on  that 
very  morning  that  the  great  Folk-mote  of  the  Dusky  Men  should 
be  holden  in  the  market-place  of  the  Stead,  which  was  right  great, 
and  about  it  were  the  biggest  of  the  houses  wherein  the  men  of 
the  kindred  had  once  dwelt. 

So  when  they  had  made  an  end  of  questioning  the  thrall,  and 
had  given  him  meat  and  drink,  they  asked  him  if  he  would  take 
weapons  in  his  hand  and  lead  them  on  the  ways  into  the  Dale, 
bidding  him  look  about  the  wood  and  note  how  great  and  mighty 
an  host  they  were.  And  the  carle  yeasaid  this,  after  staring  about 
him  a while,  and  they  gave  him  spear  and  shield,  and  he  went 
with  the  vanward  as  a way-leader. 

Again  presently  came  a watch  of  the  Shepherds,  and  they  had 
found  a man  and  a woman  dead  and  stark  naked  hanging  to  the 
boughs  of  a great  oak-tree  deep  in  the  wood.  This  men  knew 
for  some  vengeance  of  the  Dusky  Men,  for  it  was  clear  to  see 
that  these  poor  people  had  been  sorely  tormented  before  they  were 
slain.  Also  the  same  watch  had  stumbled  on  the  dead  body  of 
an  old  woman,  clad  in  rags,  lying  amongst  the  rank  grass  about 
a little  flow ; she  was  exceeding  lean  and  hunger-starved,  and 
in  her  hand  was  a frog  which  she  had  half  eaten.  And  Dallach, 
when  he  heard  of  this,  said  that  it  was  the  wont  of  the  Dusky 
Men  to  slay  their  thralls  when  they  were  past  work,  or  to  drive 
them  into  the  wilderness  to  die. 

Lastly  came  a watch  from  the  men  of  the  Face,  having  with 
them  two  more  thralls,  lusty  young  men ; these  they  had  come 
upon  in  company  of  their  master,  who  had  brought  them  up  into 
the  wood  to  shoot  him  a buck,  and  therefore  they  bare  bows  and 
arrows.  The  watch  had  slain  the  master  straightway  while  the 
thralls  stood  looking  on.  They  were  much  afraid  of  the  weaponed 
men,  but  answered  to  the  questioning  much  readier  than  the  first 

326 


man;  for  they  were  household  thralls,  and  better  fed  and  clad  than 
he,  who  was  but  a toiler  in  the  fields.  They  yeasaid  all  his  tale, 
and  said  moreover  that  the  Folk-mote  of  the  Dusky  Men  should 
be  holden  in  the  market-place  that  forenoon,  and  that  most  of  the 
warriors  should  be  there,  both  the  new-comers  and  the  Rose- dale 
lords,  and  that  without  doubt  they  should  be  under  arms. 

To  these  men  also  they  gave  a good  sword  and  a helm  each, 
and  bade  them  be  brisk  with  their  bows,  and  they  said  yea  to 
marching  with  the  Host;  and  indeed  they  feared  nothing  so  much 
as  being  left  behind  ; for  if  they  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Dusky 
Men,  and  their  master  missing,  they  should  first  be  questioned 
with  torments,  and  then  slain  in  the  evillest  manner. 

Now  whereas  things  had  thus  betid,  and  that  they  knew  thus 
much  of  their  foemen,  Face-of-god  called  all  the  chieftains  together, 
and  they  sat  on  the  green  grass  and  held  counsel  amongst  them,  and 
to  one  and  all  it  seemed  good  that  they  should  suffer  the  Dusky 
Men  to  gather  together  before  they  meddled  with  them,  and  then 
fall  upon  them  in  such  order  and  such  time  as  should  seem  good 
to  the  captains  watching  how  things  went ; and  this  would  be 
easy,  whereas  they  were  all  lying  in  the  wood  in  the  same  order 
as  they  would  stand  in  battle-array  if  they  were  all  drawn  up 
together  on  the  brow  of  the  hill.  Albeit  Face-of-god  deemed  it 
good,  after  he  had  heard  all  that  they  who  had  been  in  the  Stead 
could  tell  him  thereof,  that  the  Shepherd-Folk,  who  were  more 
than  three  long  hundreds,  and  they  of  the  Steer,  the  Bridge,  and 
the  Bull,  four  hundreds  in  all,  should  take  their  places  eastward 
of  the  Woodlanders  who  had  led  the  vanward. 

Straightway  the  word  was  borne  to  these  men,  and  the  shift 
was  made  : so  that  presently  the  Woodlanders  were  amidmost 
of  the  Host,  and  had  with  them  on  their  right  hands  the  Men  of 
the  Steer,  the  Bridge,  and  the  Bull,  and  beyond  them  the  Shep- 
herd-Folk. But  on  their  left  hand  lay  the  Men  of  the  Vine,  then 
they  of  the  Sickle,  and  lastly  the  Men  of  the  Face,  and  these 
three  kindreds  were  over  five  hundreds  of  warriors : as  for  the  Men 

327 


Counsel  be- 
fore the 
battle. 


Silver-dale 
close  within 
eyeshot. 


of  the  Wolf,  they  abode  at  first  with  those  companies  which  they 
had  led  through  the  wastes,  though  this  was  changed  afterwards. 

All  this  being  done,  Face-of-god  gave  out  that  all  men  should 
break  their  fast  in  peace  and  leisure ; and  while  men  were  at  their 
meat,  Folk-might  spake  to  Face-of-god  and  said : ‘ Come,  brother, 
for  I would  show  thee  a goodly  thing  ; and  thou,  Dallach,  come 
with  us.’ 

Then  he  brought  them  by  paths  in  the  wood  till  Face-of-god 
saw  the  sky  shine  white  between  the  tree-boles,  and  in  a little 
while  they  were  come  well-nigh  out  of  the  thicket,  and  then  they 
went  warily;  for  before  them  was  nought  but  the  slopes  of 
Wood-dale,  going  down  steeply  into  Silver-dale,  with  nought  to 
hinder  the  sight  of  it,  save  here  and  there  bushes  or  scattered 
trees;  and  so  fair  and  lovely  it  was  that  Face-of-god  could 
scarce  forbear  to  cry  out.  He  saw  that  it  was  only  at  the  upper 
or  eastern  end,  where  the  mountains  of  the  Waste  went  round 
about  it,  that  the  Dale  was  narrow ; it  soon  widened  out  toward 
the  west,  and  for  the  most  part  was  encompassed  by  no  such 
straight-sided  a wall  as  was  Burgdale,  but  by  sloping  hills  and 
bents,  mostly  indeed  somewhat  higher  and  steeper  than  the  pass 
wherein  they  were,  but  such  as  men  could  well  climb  if  they  had 
a mind  to,  and  there  were  any  end  to  their  journey.  The  Dale 
went  due  west  a good  way,  and  then  winded  about  to  the  south- 
west, and  so  was  hidden  from  them  thereaway  by  the  bents  that 
lay  on  their  left  hand.  As  it  was  wider,  so  it  was  not  so  plain  a 
ground  as  was  Burgdale,  but  rose  in  knolls  and  little  hills  here 
and  there.  A river  greater  than  the  Weltering  Water  wound 
about  amongst  the  said  mounds ; and  along  the  side  of  it  out 
in  the  open  dale  were  many  goodly  houses  and  homesteads  of 
stone.  The  knolls  were  mostly  covered  over  with  vines,  and 
there  were  goodly  and  great  trees  in  groves  and  clumps,  chiefly 
oak  and  sweet  chestnut  and  linden  ; many  were  the  orchards,  now 
in  blossom,  about  the  homesteads ; the  pastures  of  the  neat  and 
horses  spread  out  bright  green  up  from  the  water-side,  and  deeper 


green  showed  the  acres  of  the  wheat  on  the  lower  slopes  of  the 
knolls,  and  in  wide  fields  away  from  the  river. 

Just  below  the  pitch  of  the  hill  whereon  they  were,  lay  Silver- 
stead,  the  town  of  the  Dale.  Hitherto  it  had  been  an  unfenced 
place ; but  Folk-might  pointed  to  where  on  the  western  side  a 
new  white  wall  was  rising,  and  on  which,  young  as  the  day  yet 
was,  men  were  busy  laying  the  stones  and  spreading  the  mortar. 
Fair  seemed  that  town  to  Face-of-god:  the  houses  were  ail 
builded  of  stone,  and  some  of  the  biggest  were  roofed  with  lead, 
which  also  as  well  as  silver  was  dug  out  of  the  mountains  at  the 
eastern  end  of  the  Dale.  The  market-place  was  clear  to  see  from 
where  they  stood,  though  there  were  houses  on  all  sides  of  it,  so 
wide  it  was.  From  their  standing-place  it  was  but  three  furlongs 
to  this  heart  of  Silver-dale;  and  Face-of-god  could  see  brightly- 
clad  men  moving  about  in  it  already.  High  above  their  heads  he 
beheld  two  great  clots  of  scarlet  and  yellow  raised  on  poles  and 
pitched  in  front  of  a great  stone-built  hall  roofed  with  lead,  which 
stood  amidmost  of  the  west  end  of  the  Place,  and  betwixt  those 
poles  he  saw  on  a mound  with  long  slopes  at  its  sides  somewhat 
of  white  stone,  and  amidmost  of  the  whole  Place  a great  stack  of 
faggot-wood  built  up  four-square . Those  red  and  yellow  things  on 
the  poles  he  deemed  would  be  the  banners  of  the  murder-caries; 
and  Folk-might  told  him  that  even  so  it  was,  and  that  they  were 
but  big  bunches  of  strips  of  woollen  cloth,  much  like  to  great  rag- 
mops,  save  that  the  rags  were  larger  and  longer  : no  other  token 
of  war,  said  Folk-might,  did  those  folk  carry,  save  a crook- 
bladed  sword,  smeared  with  man’s  blood,  and  bigger  than  any 
man  might  wield  in  battle. 

^ Art  thou  far-seeing.  War-leader?’  quoth  he.  ‘What  canst 
thou  see  in  the  market-place  ? ’ 

Said  Face-of-god : ‘ Far-seeing  am  I above  most  men,  and  I see 
in  the  Place  a man  in  scarlet  standing  by  the  banner,  which  is  pitched 
in  front  of  the  great  stone  hall,  near  to  the  mound  with  the  white 
stone  on  it ; and  meseemeth  he  beareth  a great  horn  in  his  hand.’ 

329  U U 


They  look 
down  into 
the  Stead. 


The  horn  of 
the  Dusky 
Men, 


Said  Folk-might : ‘ Yea,  and  that  stone  hall  was  our  Mote- 
house  when  we  were  lords  of  the  Dale,  and  thence  it  was  that 
they  who  are  now  thralls  of  the  Dusky  Men  sent  to  them  their 
message  and  token  of  yielding.  And  as  for  that  white  stone,  it 
is  the  altar  of  their  god;  for  they  have  but  one,  and  he  is  that 
same  crook-bladed  sword.  And  now  that  I look,  I see  a great 
stack  of  wood  amidmost  the  market-place,  and  well  I know  what 
that  betokeneth.’ 

‘ Lo  you  !’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ the  man  with  the  horn  is  gone 
up  on  to  the  altar-mound,  and  meseemeth  he  is  setting  the  little 
end  of  the  horn  to  his  mouth.’ 

‘ Hearken  then  ! * said  Folk-might.  And  in  a moment  came 
the  hoarse  tuneless  sound  of  the  horn  down  the  wind  towards 
them;  and  Folk-might  said: 

‘ I deem  I should  know  what  that  blast  meaneth ; and  now  is 
it  time  that  the  Host  drew  nigher  to  set  them  in  array  behind 
these  very  trees.  But  if  ye  will,  War-leader,  we  will  abide 
here  and  watch  the  ways  of  the  foemen,  and  send  Dallach  with 
the  word  to  the  Host;  also  I would  have  thee  suffer  me  to  bid 
hither  at  once  two  score  and  ten  of  the  best  of  the  bowmen  of  our 
folk  and  the  Woodlanders,  and  Wood- wise  to  lead  them,  for 
he  knoweth  well  the  land  hereabout,  and  what  is  good  to  do.’ 

‘ It  is  good,’  said  Face-of-god.  ‘ Be  speedy,  Dallach  ! ’ 

So  Dallach  departed,  running  lightly,  and  the  two  chiefs 
abode  there  ; and  the  horn  in  Silver-stead  blew  at  whiles  for  a 
little,  and  then  stayed;  and  Folk-might  said: 

* Lo  you  ! they  come  flockmeal  to  the  Mote-stead ; the  Place 
will  be  filled  ere  long.’ 

Said  Face-of-god:  ‘Will  they  make  offerings  to  their  god  at 
the  hallowing  in  of  their  Folk-mote  ? Where  then  are  the 
slaughter-beasts  ? ’ 

‘ They  shall  not  long  be  lacking,’  said  Folk-might.  ‘ See  you 
it  is  getting  thronged  about  the  altar  and  the  Mote-house.’ 

Now  there  were  four  ways  into  the  Market-place  of  Silver-stead 

330 


turned  toward  the  four  airts,  and  the  midmost  of  the  kindreds’ 
battle  looked  right  down  the  southern  one,  which  went  up  to  the 
wood,  but  stopped  there  in  a mere  woodland  path,  and  the  more 
part  of  the  town  lay  north  and  west  of  this  way,  albeit  there  was 
a way  from  the  east  also.  But  the  hill-side  just  below  the  two 
captains  lay  two  furlongs  west  of  this  southern  way ; and  it  went 
down  softly  till  it  was  gotten  quite  near  to  the  backs  of  the 
houses  on  the  south  side  of  the  Market-place,  and  was  sprinkled 
scantly  with  bushes  and  trees  as  aforesaid  ; but  at  last  were  there 
more  bushes,  which  well-nigh  made  a hedge  across  it,  reaching 
from  the  side  of  the  southern  way ; and  a foot  or  two  beyond 
these  bushes  the  ground  fell  by  a steep  and  broken  bent  down  to 
the  level  of  the  Market-place,  and  betwixt  that  fringe  of  bushes 
and  the  backs  of  the  houses  on  the  south  side  of  the  Place  was 
less  it  maybe  than  a full  furlong ; but  the  southern  road  afore- 
said went  down  softly  into  the  Market-place,  since  it  had  been 
fashioned  so  by  men. 

Now  the  two  chiefs  heard  a loud  blast  of  horns  come  up  from 
the  town,  and  lo  ! a great  crowd  of  men  wending  their  ways  down 
the  road  from  the  north,  and  they  came  into  the  market-place  with 
spears  and  other  weapons  tossing  in  the  air,  and  amidst  of  these 
men,  who  seemed  to  be  all  of  the  warriors,  they  saw  as  they  drew 
nigher  some  two  score  and  ten  of  men  clad  in  long  raiment  of 
yellow  and  scarlet,  with  tall  spiring  hats  of  strange  fashion  on  their 
heads,  and  in  their  hands  long  staves  with  great  blades  like  scythes 
done  on  to  them ; and  again,  in  the  midst  of  these  yellow  and  red 
glaive-bearers,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  throng  were  some  score  of 
naked  folk,  they  deemed  both  men  and  women,  but  were  not 
sure,  so  close  was  the  throng ; nor  could  they  see  if  they  were 
utterly  naked. 

‘Lo  you, brother!’  quoth  Folk-might,  ‘said  I not  that  the  beasts 
for  the  hewing  should  not  tarry?  Yonder  naked  folk  are  even 
they : and  ye  may  well  deem  that  they  are  the  thralls  of  the  Dusky 
Men ; and  meseemeth  by  the  whiteness  of  their  skins  they  be  of 

331 


The  fashion 
ofthe  Market- 
place of  Silver- 
stead, 


Now  come 
bowmen  of 
the  Wolf  and 
the  Wood- 
land. 


the  best  of  them.  For  these  felons,  it  is  like,  look  to  winning  great 
plenty  of  thralls  in  Burgdale,  and  so  set  the  less  store  on  them  they 
have,  and  may  expend  them  freely.’ 

As  he  spake  they  heard  the  sound  of  men  marching  in  the  wood 
behind  them,  and  they  turned  about  and  saw  that  there  was  come 
Wood-wise,  and  with  him  upwards  of  two  score  and  ten  of  the  bow- 
men of  the  Woodlanders  and  the  Wolf — huntsmen,  cragsmen, 
and  scourers  of  the  Waste;  men  who  could  shoot  the  chaffinch  on 
the  twig  a hundred  yards  aloof ; who  could  make  a hiding-place 
of  the  bennets  of  the  wayside  grass,  or  the  stem  of  the  slender 
birch-tree.  With  these  must  needs  be  Bow-may,  who  was  the 
closest  shooter  of  all  the  kindreds. 

So  then  Wood- wise  told  the  War-leader  that  Dallach  had  given 
the  word  to  the  Host,  and  that  all  men  were  astir  and  would  be 
there  presently  in  their  ordered  companies ; and  Face-of-god  spake 
to  Folk-might,  and  said:  ‘Chief  of  the  Wolf,  wilt  thou  not  give 
command  to  these  bowmen,  and  set  them  to  the  work  ; for  thou 
wottest  thereof.’ 

‘ Yea,  that  will  I,’  said  Folk-might,  and  turned  to  Wood-wise, 
and  said : ‘ Wood-wise,  get  ye  down  the  slope,  and  loose  on  these 
felons,  who  have  a murder  on  hand,  if  so  be  ye  have  a chance  to 
do  it  wisely.  But  in  any  case  come  ye  all  back  ; for  all  shall  be 
needed  yet  to-day.  So  flee  if  they  pursue,  for  ye  shall  have  us  to 
flee  to.  Now  be  ye  wary,  nor  let  rtie  curse  of  the  Wolf  and  the 
Face  lie  on  your  slothfulness.’ 

Wood-wise  did  but  nod  his  head  and  lift  his  hand  to  his  fellows, 
who  set  off  after  him  down  the  slope  without  more  tarrying.  They 
went  very  warily,  as  if  they  were  hunting  a quarry  which  would 
flee  from  them  ; and  they  crept  amongst  the  grass  and  stones  from 
bush  to  bush  like  serpents,  and  so,  unseen  by  the  Dusky  Men,  who 
indeed  were  busied  over  their  own  matters,  they  came  to  the  fringe 
of  bushes  above  the  broken  ground  aforesaid,  and  there  they  took 
their  stand,  and  before  them  below  those  steep  banks  was  but  the 
space  at  the  back  of  the  houses.  As  to  the  houses,  as  aforesaid, 

332 


they  were  not  so  high  as  elsewhere  about  the  Market-place ; and  Gifts  for  the 
at  the  end  of  a long  low  hall  there  was  a gap  between  its  gable  God, 
and  the  next  house,  whereby  they  had  a clear  sight  of  the  Place 
about  the  god’s  altar  and  the  banners,  and  the  great  hall  of  Silver- 
dale,  with  the  double  stair  that  went  up  to  the  door  thereof. 

There  then  they  made  them  ready,  and  Wood- wise  set  men  to 
watch  that  none  should  come  sidelong  on  them  unawares ; their 
bows  were  bent  and  their  quivers  open,  and  they  were  eager  for 
the  fray. 

Thus  they  beheld  the  Market-place  from  their  cover,  and  saw 
that  those  folk  who  were  to  be  hewn  to  the  god  were  now  standing 
facing  the  altar  in  a half- ring,  and  behind  them  in  another  half- 
ring the  glaive-bearers  who  had  brought  them  thither  stood  glaive 
in  hand  ready  to  hew  them  down  when  the  token  should  be  given  ; 
and  these  were  indeed  the  priests  of  the  god. 

There  was  clear  space  round  about  these  poor  slaughter-thralls, 
so  that  the  bowmen  could  see  them  well,  and  they  told  up  a score 
of  them,  half  men,  half  women,  and  they  were  all  stark  naked  save 
for  wreaths  of  flowers  about  their  middles  and  their  necks  ; and 
they  had  shackles  of  lead  about  their  wrists  ; which  same  lead 
should  be  taken  out  of  the  fire  wherein  they  should  be  burned,  and 
from  the  shape  it  should  take  after  it  had  passed  through  the  fire 
would  the  priests  foretell  the  luck  of  the  deed  to  be  done. 

It  was  clear  to  be  seen  from  thence  that  Folk-might  was  right 
when  he  said  that  these  slaughter-thralls  were  of  the  best  of  the 
house-thralls  and  bed-mates  of  the  Dusky  Men,  and  that  these 
felons  were  open-handed  to  their  god,  and  would  not  cheat  him,  or 
withhold  from  him  the  best  and  most  delicate  of  all  they  had. 

Now  spake  Wood-wise  to  those  about  him  : ‘ It  is  sure  that 
Folk-might  would  have  us  give  these  poor  thralls  a chance,  and 
that  we  must  loose  upon  the  felons  who  would  hew  them  down; 
and  if  we  are  to  come  back  again,  we  can  go  no  nigher.  What  sayest 
thou.  Bow-may  ? Is  it  nigh  enough  ? Can  aught  be  done  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,  yea,’  she  said,  ‘nigh  enough  it  is;  but  let  Gold-ring 

333 


They  make  be  with  mc  and  half  a score  of  the  very  best,  whether  they  be  of 

ready  to  our  folk  or  the  Woodlanders,  men  who  cannot  miss  such  a mark ; 

shoot.  ^jjd  when  we  have  loosed,  then  let  all  loose,  and  stay  not  till  our 

shot  be  spent.  Haste,  now  haste ! time  presseth;  for  if  the  Host 
showeth  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  these  felons  will  hew  down  their 
slaughter-beasts  before  they  turn  on  their  foemen.  Let  the  grey- 
goose  wing  speed  trouble  and  confusion  amongst  them.’ 

But  ere  she  had  done  her  words  Wood- wise  had  got  to  speak- 
ing quietly  with  the  Woodlanders;  and  Bears-bane,  who  was 
amidst  them,  chose  out  eight  of  the  best  of  his  folk,  men  who 
doubted  nothing  of  hitting  whatever  they  could  see  in  the  Mar- 
ket-place ; and  they  took  their  stand  for  shooting,  and  with  them 
besides  Bow-may  were  two  women  and  four  men  of  the  Wolf, 
and  Gold-ring  withal,  a carle  of  fifty  winters,  long,  lean,  and 
wiry,  a fell  shooter  if  ever  anyone  were. 

So  all  these  notched  their  shafts  and  laid  them  on  the  yew, 
and  each  had  between  the  two  last  fingers  of  the  shaft-hand 
another  shaft  ready,  and  a half  score  more  stuck  into  the  ground 
before  him. 

Now  giveth  Wood-wise  the  word  to  these  sixteen  as  to  which 
of  the  felons  with  the  glaives  they  shall  each  one  aim  at ; and  he 
saith  withal  in  a soft  voice  : ‘ Help  cometh  from  the  Hill ; soon 
shall  battle  be  joined  in  Silver-dale.’ 

Thus  stand  they  watching  Bow-may  and  Gold-ring  till  they 
draw  home  the  notches ; and  amidst  their  waiting  the  glaive- 
bearing felons  fall  a-singing  a harsh  and  ugly  hymn  to  their 
crooked-sword  god,  and  the  Market-stead  is  thronged  endlong 
and  overthwart  with  the  tribes  of  the  Dusky  Men. 

There  now  standeth  Bow-may  far-sighted  and  keen-eyed,  her 
face  as  pale  as  a linen  sleeve,  an  awful  smile  on  her  glittering 
eyes  and  close-set  lips,  and  she  feeling  the  twisted  string  of  the 
red  yew  and  the  polished  sides  of  the  notch,  while  the  yelling 
song  of  the  Dusky  priests  quavers  now  and  ends  with  a wild  shrill 
cry,  and  she  noteth  the  midmost  of  the  priests  beginning  to  handle 

334 


his  weapon : then  swift  and  steady  she  draweth  home  the  notches,  The  speeding 
while  the  yew  bow  standeth  still  as  the  oak-bole  ere  the  summer  shafts, 

storm  ariseth,  and  the  twang  of  the  sixteen  strings  maketh  but 
one  fell  sound  as  the  feathered  bane  of  men  goeth  on  its  way. 

There  was  silence  for  a moment  of  time  in  the  Market  of 
Silver-stead,  as  if  the  bolt  of  the  Gods  had  fallen  there ; and  then 
arose  a huge  wordless  yell  from  those  about  the  altar,  and  one 
of  the  priests  who  was  left  hove  up  his  glaive  two-handed  to 
smite  the  naked  slaughter-thralls ; but  or  ever  the  stroke  fell, 

Bow-may’s  second  shaft  was  through  his  throat,  and  he  rolled 
over  amidst  his  dead  fellows ; and  the  other  fifteen  had  loosed 
with  her,  and  then  even  as  they  could  Wood-wise  and  the  others 
of  their  company;  and  all  they  notched  and  loosed  without 
tarrying,  and  no  shout,  no  word  came  from  their  lips,  only  the 
twanging  strings  spake  for  them  ; for  they  deemed  the  minutes 
that  hurried  by  were  worth  much  joy  of  their  lives  to  be.  And 
few  indeed  were  the  passing  minutes  ere  the  dead  men  lay  in 
heaps  about  the  Altar  of  the  Crooked  Sword,  and  the  wounded 
men  wallowed  amidst  them. 


CHAPTER  XHV.  OF  THE  ONSLAUGHT  OF  THE  MEN 
OF  THE  STEER,  THE  BRIDGE,  AND  THE  BULL. 

WILD  was  the  turmoil  and  confusion  in  the  Market-stead ; 

for  the  more  part  of  the  men  therein  knew  not  what 
had  befallen  about  the  altar,  though  some  clomb  up  to 
the  top  of  that  stack  of  faggots  built  for  the  burning  of  the 
thralls,  and  when  they  saw  what  was  toward  fell  to  yelling  and 
cursing;  and  their  fellows  on  the  plain  Place  could  not  hear  their 
story  for  the  clamour,  and  they  also  fell  to  howling  as  if  a wood 
full  of  wild  dogs  was  there. 

And  still  the  shafts  rained  down  on  that  throng  from  the  Bent 
of  the  Bowmen,  for  another  two  score  men  of  the  Woodlanders 

335 


The  Dusky 
Men  turn  on 
the  bowmen. 


had  crept  down  the  hill  to  them,  and  shafts  failed  them  not. 
But  the  Dusky  Men  about  the  altar,  for  all  their  terror,  or  even 
maybe  because  of  it,  now  began  to  turn  upon  the  scarce-seen 
foemen,  and  to  press  up  wildly  toward  the  hill-side,  though  as  it 
were  without  any  order  or  aim.  Every  man  of  them  had  his 
weapons,  and  those  no  mere  gilded  toys,  but  their  very  tools  of 
battle  ; and  some,  but  no  great  number,  had  their  bows  with  them 
and  a few  shafts ; and  these  began  to  shoot  at  whatsoever  they 
could  see  on  the  hill-side,  but  at  first  so  wildly  and  hurriedly  that 
they  did  no  harm. 

It  must  be  said  of  them  that  at  first  only  those  about  the  altar 
fell  on  toward  the  hill ; for  those  about  the  road  that  led  south- 
ward knew  not  what  had  betided  nor  whither  to  turn.  So  that 
at  this  beginning  of  the  battle,  of  all  the  thousands  in  the  great 
Place  it  was  but  a few  hundreds  that  set  on  the  Bent  of  the 
Bowmen,  and  at  these  the  bowmen  of  the  kindreds  shot  so  close 
and  so  wholly  together  that  they  fell  one  over  another  ifi  the 
narrow  ways  between  the  houses  whereby  they  must  needs  go  to 
gather  on  the  plain  ground  betwixt  the  backs  of  the  houses  and 
the  break  of  the  hill-side.  But  little  by  little  the  archers  of  the 
Dusky  Men  gathered  behind  the  corpses  of  the  slain,  and  fell  to 
shooting  at  what  they  could  see  of  the  men  of  the  kindreds, 
which  at  that  while  was  not  much,  for  as  bold  as  they  were,  they 
fought  like  wary  hunters  of  the  Wood  and  the  Waste. 

But  now  at  last  throughout  all  that  throng  of  Felons  in  the 
Market-place  the  tale  began  to  spread  of  foemen  come  into  the 
Dale  and  shooting  from  the  Bents,  and  all  they  turned  their 
faces  to  the  hill,  and  the  whole  set  of  the  throng  was  thither- 
ward; though  they  fared  but  slowly,  so  evil  was  the  order  of 
them,  each  man  hindering  his  neighbour  as  he  went.  And  not 
only  did  the  Dusky  Men  come  flockmeal  toward  the  Bent  of  the 
Bowmen,  but  also  they  jostled  along  toward  the  road  that  led 
southward.  That  beheld  Wood-wise  from  the  Bent,  and  he 
was  minded  to  get  him  and  his  aback,  now  that  they  had  made  so 

336 


great  a slaughter  of  the  foemen ; and  two  or  three  of  his  fellows 
had  been  hurt  by  arrows,  and  Bow-may,  she  would  have  been 
slain  thrice  over  but  for  the  hammer-work  of  the  Alderman.  And 
no  marvel  was  that;  for  now  she  stood  on  a little  mound  not 
half  covered  by  a thin  thorn-bush,  and  notched  and  loosed  at 
whatever  was  most  notable,  as  though  she  were  shooting  at  the 
mark  on  a summer  evening  in  Shadowy  Vale.  But  as  Wood- 
wise  was  at  point  to  give  the  word  to  depart,  from  behind  them 
rang  out  the  merry  sound  of  the  Burgdale  horns,  and  he  turned 
to  look  at  the  wood-side,  and  lo  ! thereunder  was  the  hill  bright 
and  dark  with  men-at-arms,  and  over  them  floated  the  Banners 
of  the  Wolf,  and  the  Banners  of  the  Steer,  the  Bridge,  and  the 
Bull.  Then  gave  forth  the  bowmen  of  the  kindreds  their  first 
shout,  and  they  made  no  stay  in  their  shooting;  but  shot  the 
eagerer,  for  they  deemed  that  help  would  come  without  their 
turning  about  to  draw  it  to  them:  and  even  so  it  was.  For 
straightway  down  the  bent  came  striding  Face-of-god  betwixt 
the  two  Banners  of  the  Wolf,  and  beside  him  were  Red-wolf 
the  tall  and  War-grove,  and  therewithal  Wood-wont  and  Wood- 
wicked,  and  many  other  men  of  the  Wolf ; for  now  that  the 
men  of  the  kindreds  had  been  brought  face  to  face  with  the 
foe,  and  there  was  less  need  of  them  for  way-leaders,  the  more 
part  of  them  were  liefer  to  fight  under  their  own  banner  along 
with  the  Woodlanders;  so  that  the  company  of  those  who  went 
under  the  Wolves  was  more  than  three  long  hundreds  and  a 
half ; and  the  bowmen  on  the  edge  of  the  bent  shouted  again 
and  merrily,  when  they  felt  that  their  brothers  were  amongst 
them,  and  presently  was  the  arrow-storm  at  its  fiercest,  and 
the  twanging  of  bow-strings  and  the  whistle  of  the  shafts  was 
as  the  wind  among  the  clefts  of  the  mountains ; for  all  the  new- 
comers were  bowmen  of  the  best. 

But  the  kindreds  of  the  Steer,  the  Bridge,  and  the  Bull, 
they  hung  yet  a while  longer  on  the  hills’  brow,  their  banners 
floating  over  them  and  their  horns  blowing;  and  the  Dusky 

337  XX 


The  kindreds 
set  the  battle 
in  array  on 
the  wood^s 
edge. 


A song  of 
onset  of  the 
kindreds  of 
the  Upper 
Dale. 


Felons  in  the  Market-place  beheld  them,  and  fear  and  rage  at 
once  filled  their  hearts,  and  a fierce  and  dreadful  yell  brake  out 
from  them,  and  joyously  did  the  Men  of  Burgdale  answer  them„ 
and  song  arose  amongst  them  even  such  as  this  : 


The  Men  of  the  Bridge  sing: 

Why  stand  ye  together,  why  bear  ye  the  shield. 
Now  the  calf  straineth  tether  at  edge  of  the  field  ? 


Now  the  lamb  bleateth  stronger  and  waters  run  clear, 

And  the  day  groweth  longer  and  glad  is  the  year  ? 

Now  the  mead-flowers  jostle  so  thick  as  they  stand, 

And  singeth  the  throstle  all  over  the  land  ? 

The  Men  of  the  Steer  sing : 

No  cloud  the  day  darkened,  no  thunder  we  heard, 

But  the  horns’  speech  we  hearkened  as  men  unafeared. 

Yea,  so  merry  it  sounded,  we  turned  from  the  Dale, 
Where  all  wealth  abounded,  to  wot  of  its  tale. 

The  Men  of  the  Bridge  sing: 

What  white  boles  then  bear  ye,  what  wealth  of  the  woods  ? 
What  chafferers  hear  ye  bid  loud  for  your  goods  ? 

The  Men  of  the  Bull  sing : 

O the  bright  beams  we  carry  are  stems  of  the  steel ; 

Nor  long  shall  we  tarry  across  them  to  deal. 

Hark  the  men  of  the  cheaping,  how  loudly  they  cry 
On  the  hook  for  the  reaping  of  men  doomed  to  die  ! 

They  all  sing : 

Heave  spear  up ! fare  forward,  O Men  of  the  Dale ! 

For  the  Warrior,  our  war-ward,  shall  hearken  the  tale. 

338 


Therewith  they  ceased  a moment,  and  then  gave  a great  and  Those  kin- 
hearty  shout  all  together,  and  all  their  horns  blew,  and  they  moved  dreds  fall  on. 
on  down  the  hill  as  one  man,  slowly  and  with  no  jostling,  the  spear- 
men first,  and  then  they  of  the  axe  and  the  sword ; and  on  their 
flanks  the  deft  archers  loosed  on  the  stumbling  jostling  throng 
of  the  Dusky  Men,  who  for  their  part  came  on  drifting  and  surging 
up  the  road  to  the  hill. 

But  when  those  big  spearmen  of  the  Dale  had  gone  a little  way 
the  horns’  voice  died  out,  and  their  great-staved  spears  rose  up 
from  their  shoulders  into  the  air,  and  stood  so  a moment,  and  then 
slowly  fell  forward,  as  the  oars  of  the  longship  fall  into  the  row- 
locks,  and  then  over  the  shoulders  of  the  foremost  men  showed  the 
steel  of  the  five  ranks  behind  them,  and  their  own  spears  cast  long 
bars  of  shadow  on  the  whiteness  of  the  sunny  road.  No  sound  came 
from  them  now  save  the  rattle  of  their  armour  and  the  tramp  of 
their  steady  feet ; but  from  the  Dusky  Men  rose  up  hideous  con- 
fused yelling,  and  those  that  could  free  themselves  from  the  tangle 
of  the  throng  rushed  desperately  against  the  on-rolling  hedge  of 
steel,  and  the  whole  throng  shoved  on  behind  them.  Then  met 
steel  and  men ; here  and  there  an  ash-stave  broke  ; here  and  there  a 
Dusky  Felon  rolledhimselfunhurt  under  the  ash-staves,  and  hewed 
the  knees  of  the  Dalesmen,  and  a tall  man  came  tottering  down  ; 
but  what  men  or  wood-wights  could  endure  the  push  of  spears  of 
those  mighty  husbandmen  ? The  Dusky  Ones  shrunk  back  yelling, 
or  turned  their  backs  and  rushed  at  their  own  folk  with  such  fierce 
agony  that  they  entered  into  the  throng,  till  the  terror  of  the  spear 
reached  to  the  midmost  of  it  and  swayed  them  back  on  the  hinder- 
most  ; for  neither  was  there  outgate  for  the  felons  on  the  flanks  of 
the  spearmen,  since  there  the  feathered  death  beset  them,  and  the 
bowmen  (and  the  Bride  amongst  the  foremost)  shot  wholly  to- 
gether, and  no  shaft  flew  idly.  But  the  wise  leaders  of  the  Dales- 
men would  not  that  they  should  thrust  in  too  far  amongst  the  howl- 
ing throng  of  the  Dusky  Men,  lest  they  should  be  hemmed  in  by 
them ; for  they  were  but  a handful  in  regard  to  them  : so  there  they 

339 


The  cnam- 
pions  of  the 
kindreds 
amongst  the 
Dusky  Men. 


stayed,  barring  the  way  to  the  Dusky  Men,  and  the  bowmen  still 
loosed  from  the  flanks  of  them,  or  aimed  deftly  from  betwixt  the 
ranks  of  the  spearmen. 

And  now  was  there  a space  of  ten  strides  or  more  betwixt  the 
Dalesmen  and  their  foes,  over  which  the  spears  hung  terribly,  nor 
durst  the  Dusky  Men  adventure  there ; and  thereon  was  nought  but 
men  dead  or  sorely  hurt.  Then  suddenly  a horn  rang  thrice  shrilly 
over  all  the  noise  and  clamour  of  the  throng,  and  the  ranks  of  the 
spearmen  opened,  and  forth  into  that  space  strode  two  score  of  the 
swordsmen  and  axe-wielders  of  the  Dale,  their  weapons  raised  in 
their  hands,  and  he  who  led  them  was  Iron-hand  of  the  House  of 
the  Bull : tall  he  was,  wide-shouldered,  exceeding  strong,  but 
beardless  and  fair-faced.  He  bore  aloft  a two-edged  sword,  broad- 
bladed,  exceeding  heavy,  so  that  few  men  could  wield  it  in  battle, 
but  not  right  long ; it  was  an  ancient  weapon,  and  his  father  before 
him  had  called  it  the  Barley-scythe.  With  him  were  some  of  the 
best  of  the  kindreds,  as  Wolf  of  Whitegarth,  Long-hand  of  Oak- 
holt,  Hart  of  Highcliff,  and  War-well  the  captain  of  the  Bridge.^ 
These  made  no  tarrying  on  that  space  of  the  dead,  but  cried  aloud 
their  cries : ^ For  the  Burg  and  the  Steer ! for  the  Dale  and  the 
Bridge ! for  the  Dale  and  the  Bull ! ’ and  so  fell  at  once  on  the 
Felons ; who  fled  not,  nor  had  room  to  flee ; and  also  they  feared  not 
the  edge- weapons  so  sorely  as  they  feared  those  huge  spears.  So 
they  turned  fiercely  on  the  swordsmen,  and  chiefly  on  Iron-hand,  as 
he  entered  in  amongst  them  the  first  of  all,  hewing  to  the  right 
hand  and  the  left,  and  many  a man  fell  before  the  Barley-scythe ; 
for  they  were  but  little  before  him.  Yet  as  one  fell  another  took  his 
place,  and  hewed  at  him  with  the  steel  axe  and  the  crooked  sword ; 
and  with  many  strokes  they  clave  his  shield  and  brake  his  helm 
and  rent  his  byrny,  while  he  heeded  little  save  smiting  with  the 
Barley-scythe,  and  the  blood  ran  from  his  arm  and  his  shoulder  and 
his  thigh. 

But  War-well  had  entered  in  among  the  foe  on  his  left  hand^ 
and  unshielded  hove  up  a great  broad-bladed  axe,  that  clave  the 

340 


iron  helms  of  the  Dusky  Men,  and  rent  their  horn-scaled  byrnies. 
He  was  not  very  tall,  but  his  shoulders  were  huge  and  his  arms 
long,  and  nought  could  abide  his  stroke.  He  cleared  a ring  round 
Iron-hand,  whose  eyes  were  growing  dim  as  the  blood  flowed  from 
him,  and  hewed  three  strokes  before  him  ; then  turned  and  drew  the 
champion  out  of  the  throng,  and  gave  him  into  the  arms  of  his  fel- 
lows to  stanch  the  blood  that  drained  away  the  might  of  his  limbs  ; 
and  then  with  a great  wott'dless  roar  leaped  back  again  on  the 
Dusky  Men  as  the  lion  leapeth  on  the  herd  of  swine  ; and  they 
shrank  away  before  him ; and  all  the  swordsmen  shouted,  * For  the 
Bridge,  for  the  Bridge !’  and  pressed  on  the  harder,  smiting  down 
all  before  them.  On  his  left  hand  now  was  Hart  of  Highcliff* 
wielding  a good  sword  hight  Chip-driver,  wherewith  he  had  slain 
and  hurt  a many,  fighting  wisely  with  sword  and  shield,  and 
driving  the  point  home  through  the  joints  of  the  armour.  But 
even  therewith,  as  he  drave  a great  stroke  at  a lord  of  the  Dusky 
Ones,  a cast-spear  came  flying  and  smote  him  on  the  breast,  so 
that  he  staggered,  and  the  stroke  fell  flatlings  on  the  shield-boss 
of  his  foe,  and  Chip-driver  brake  atwain  nigh  the  hilts;  but 
Hart  closed  with  him,  and  smote  him  on  the  face  with  the  pom- 
mel, and  tore  his  axe  from  his  hand  and  clave  his  skull  there- 
with, and  slew  him  with  his  own  weapon,  and  fought  on  valiantly 
beside  War-well. 

Now  War-well  had  fought  so  fiercely  that  he  had  rent  his  own 
hauberk  with  the  might  of  his  strokes,  and  as  he  raised  his  arm  to 
smite  a huge  stroke,  a deft  man  of  the  Felons  thrust  the  spike  of  his 
war-axe  up  under  his  arm  ; and  when  War- well  felt  the  smart  of 
the  steel,  he  turned  on  that  man,  and,  letting  his  axe  fall  down  to 
his  wrist  and  hang  there  by  its  loop,  he  caught  the  foeman  up  by 
the  neck  and  the  breech,  and  drave  him  against  the  other  Dusky 
Ones  before  him,  so  that  their  weapons  pierced  and  rent  their  own 
friend  and  fellow.  Then  he  put  forth  the  might  of  his  arms  and 
the  pith  of  his  body,  and  hove  up  that  felon  and  cast  him  on  to  the 
heads  of  his  fellow  murder-carles,  so  that  he  rent  them  and  was 

341 


Great  strokes 
stricken. 


The  kindreJs 
drive  the 
Dusky  Men. 


rent  by  them.  Then  War-well  fell  on  again  with  the  axe,  and 
all  the  champions  of  the  Dale  shouted  and  fell  on  with  him,  and 
the  foe  shrank  away ; and  the  Dalesmen  cleared  a space  five  fathoms’ 
length  before  them,  and  the  spearmen  drewonward  and  stood  on  the 
space  whereon  the  first  onslaught  had  been. 

Then  drew  those  hewers  of  the  Dale  together,  and  forth  from 
the  company  came  the  man  that  bare  the  Banner  of  the  Bridge, 
and  the  champions  gathered  round  him,  and  they  ordered  their 
ranks  and  strode  with  the  Banner  before  them  three  times  to  and 
fro  across  the  road  athwart  the  front  of  the  spearmen,  and  then 
with  a great  shout  drew  back  within  the  spear-hedge.  Albeit  five 
of  the  champions  of  the  Dale  had  been  slain  outright  there,  and 
the  more  part  of  them  hurt  more  or  less. 

But  when  all  were  well  within  the  ranks,  once  again  blew  the 
horn,  and  all  the  spears  sank  to  the  rest,  and  the  kindreds  drave 
the  spear-furrow,  and  a space  was  swept  clear  before  them,  and 
the  cries  and  yells  of  the  Dusky  Men  were  so  fierce  and  wild  that 
the  rough  voices  of  the  Dalesmen  were  drowned  amidst  them. 

Forth  then  came  every  bowman  of  the  kindred  that  was  there 
and  loosed  on  the  Dusky  Men;  and  they  forsooth  had  some 
bowmen  amongst  them,  but  cooped  up  and  jostled  as  they  were, 
they  shot  but  wildly ; whereas  each  shaft  of  the  Dale  went 
home  truly. 

But  amongst  the  bowmen  forth  came  the  Bride  in  her  glittering 
war-gear,  and  stepped  lightly  to  the  front  of  the  spearmen.  Her 
own  yew  bow  had  been  smitten  by  a shaft  and  broken  in  her  hand  : 
so  she  had  caught  up  a short  horn  bow  and  a quiver  from  one  of 
the  slain  of  the  Dusky  Men;  and  now  she  knelt  on  one  knee  under 
the  shadow  of  the  spears  nigh  to  her  grandsire  Hall-ward,  and 
with  a pale  face  and  knitted  brow  notched  and  loosed,  and  notched 
and  loosed  on  the  throng  of  foemen,  as  if  she  were  some  daintily 
fashioned  engine  of  war. 

So  fared  the  battle  on  the  road  that  went  from  the  south  into 
the  Market-stead.  Valiantly  had  the  kindred  fought  there,  and 

342 


no  man  of  them  had  blenched,  and  much  had  they  won;  but  the  Now  pass  we 
way  was  perilous  before  them,  for  the  foe  was  many  and  many, 

folk. 


CHAPTER  XLV.  OF  FACE-OF-GOD’S  ONSLAUGHT. 

NOW  the  banners  of  the  Wolf  flapped  and  rippled  over 
the  heads  of  the  Woodlanders  and  the  Men  of  the  Wolf; 
and  the  men  shot  all  they  might,  nor  took  heed  now  to 
cover  themselves  against  the  shafts  of  the  Dusky  Men.  As  for 
these,  for  all  they  were  so  many,  their  arrow-shot  was  no  great 
matter,  for  they  were  in  very  evil  order,  as  has  been  said ; and 
moreover,  their  rage  was  so  great  to  come  to  handy  strokes  with 
these  foemen,  that  some  of  them  flung  away  their  bows  to  brandish 
the  axe  or  the  sword.  Nevertheless  were  some  among  the  kin- 
dred hurt  or  slain  by  their  arrows. 

Now  stood  Face-of-god  with  the  foremost ; and  from  where 
he  stood  he  could  see  somewhat  of  the  battle  of  the  Dalesmen, 
and  he  wotted  that  it  was  thriving ; therefore  he  looked  before 
him  and  close  around  him,  and  noted  what  was  toward  there. 
The  space  betwixt  the  houses  and  the  break  of  the  bent  was 
crowded  with  the  fury  of  the  Dusky  Men  tossing  their  weapons 
aloft,  crying  to  each  other  and  at  the  kindred,  and  here  and  there 
loosing  a bow-string  on  them ; but  whatever  was  their  rage  they 
might  not  come  a many  together  past  a line  within  ten  fathom 
of  the  bent’s  end;  for  three  hundred  of  the  best  of  bowmen  were 
shooting  at  them  so  ceaselessly  that  no  Dusky  man  was  safe  of 
any  bare  place  of  his  body,  and  they  fell  over  one  another  in  that 
penfold  of  slaughter,  and  for  all  their  madness  did  but  little. 

Yet  was  the  heart  of  the  War-leader  troubled ; for  he  wotted 
that  it  might  not  last  for  ever,  and  there  seemed  no  end  to  the 
throng  of  murder-carles ; and  the  time  would  come  when  the  arrow- 
shot  would  be  spent,  and  they  must  needs  come  to  handy  strokes, 
and  that  with  so  many. 


343 


Bow-may  is  Now  a voice  spake  to  him  as  he  gazed  with  knitted  brows 
battle-angry,  and  careful  heart  on  that  turmoil  of  battle  : 

‘ What  now  hast  thou  done  with  the  Sun-beam,  and  where  is 
her  brother  ? Is  the  Chief  of  the  Wolf  skulking  when  our  work 
is  so  heavy  ? And  thou  meseemeth  art  overlate  on  the  field ; the 
mowing  of  this  meadow  is  no  sluggard’s  work.’ 

He  turned  and  beheld  Bow-may,  and  gazed  on  her  face  for  a 
moment,  and  saw  her  eyes  how  they  glittered,  and  how  the  pom- 
mels of  her  cheeks  were  burning  red  and  her  lips  dry  and  grey; 
but  before  he  answered  he  looked  all  round  about  to  see  what  was 
to  note ; and  he  touched  Bow-may  on  the  shoulder  and  pointed 
to  down  below  where  a man  of  the  Felons  had  just  come  out  of 
the  court  of  one  of  the  houses  : a man  taller  than  most,  very  gaily 
arrayed,  with  gilded  scales  all  over  him,  so  that,  with  his  dark 
face  and  blue  eyes,  he  looked  like  some  strange  dragon.  Bow- 
may  spake  not,  but  stamped  her  foot  with  anger.  Yet  if  her 
heart  were  hot,  her  hand  was  steady;  for  she  notched  a shaft,  and 
just  as  the  Dusky  Chief  raised  his  axe  and  brandished  it  aloft, 
she  loosed,  and  the  shaft  fiew  and  smote  the  felon  in  the  arm- 
pit  and  the  default  of  the  armour,  and  he  fell  to  earth.  But  even 
as  she  loosed,  Face-of-god  cried  out  in  a loud  voice: 

‘O  lads  of  battle  ! shoot  close  and  all  together.  Tarry  not, 
tarry  not ! for  we  need  a little  time  ere  sword  meets  sword,  and 
the  others  of  the  kindreds  are  at  work  ! ’ 

But  Bow-may  turned  round  to  him  and  said  : * Wilt  thou  not 
answer  me  ? Where  is  thy  kindness  gone  ? ’ 

Even  as  she  was  speaking  she  had  notched  and  loosed  another 
shaft,  speaking  as  folk  do  who  turn  from  busy  work  at  loom  or 
bench. 

Then  said  Face-of-god  : ‘ Shoot  on,  sister  Bow-may  ! The 
Sun-beam  is  gone  with  her  brother,  and  he  is  with  the  Men  of 
the  Face.’ 

He  broke  off  here,  for  a man  fell  beside  him  hurt  in  the  neck, 
and  Face-of-god  took  his  bow  from  his  hands  and  shot  a shaft, 

344 


while  one  of  the  women  who  had  been  hurt  also  tended  the  newly- 
wounded  man.  Then  Face-of-god  went  on  speaking  ; 

‘ She  was  unwilling  to  go,  but  F olk-m  ight  and  I constrained  her ; 
for  we  knew  that  this  is  the  most  perilous  place  of  the  battle — 
hah  ! see  those  three  felons,  Bow-may!  they  are  aiming  hither.’ 
And  again  he  loosed  and  Bow-may  also,  but  a shaft  rattled  on 
his  helm  withal,  and  another  smote  aWoodlander  beside  him,  and 
pierced  through  the  calf  of  his  leg,  as  he  turned  and  stooped  to 
take  fresh  arrows  from  a sheaf  that  lay  there  ; but  the  carle  took 
it  by  the  notch  and  the  point,  and  brake  it  and  drew  it  out,  and  then 
stood  up  and  went  on  shooting.  And  Face-of-god  spake  again  : 
‘ Folk-might  skulketh  not;  nor  the  Men  of  the  Vine,  and  the 
Sickle,  and  the  Face,  nor  the  Shepherd-Folk  : soon  shall  they 
be  making  our  work  easy  to  us,  if  we  can  hold  our  own  till  then. 
They  are  on  the  other  roads  that  lead  into  the  square.  Now  suffer 
me,  and  shoot  on  ! ’ 

Therewith  he  looked  round  about  him,  and  he  saw  on  the 
left  hand  that  all  was  quiet ; and  before  him  was  the  confused 
throng  of  the  Dusky  Men  trampling  their  own  dead  and 
wounded,  and  not  able  as  yet  to  cross  that  death-line  of  the 
arrow  so  near  to  them.  But  on  his  right  hand  he  saw  how  they 
of  the  kindreds  held  them  firm  on  the  way.  Then  for  a moment 
of  time  he  considered  and  thought,  till  him-seemed  he  could  see 
the  whole  battle  yet  to  be  foughten ; and  his  face  flushed,  and 
he  said  sharply : ‘ Bow-may,  abide  here  and  shoot,  and  show  the 
others  where  to  shoot,  while  the  arrows  hold  out;  but  we  will 
go  further  for  a while,  and  ye  shall  follow  when  we  have  made 
the  rent  great  enough.’ 

She  turned  to  him  and  said : ^ Why  art  thou  not  more  joyous  ? 
thou  art  like  an  host  without  music  or  banners.’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  he,  ‘ heed  not  me,  but  my  bidding  1 ’ 

She  said  hastily  : ^ I think  I shall  die  here  ; since  for  all  we 
have  shot  we  minish  them  nowise.  Now  kiss  me  this  once 
amidst  the  battle,  and  say  farewell.’ 

345 


Face-of-god 
beholdeth  the 
battle  how  it 
fareth. 


Y Y 


Face-of-god  He  said ; ‘Nay,  nay;  it  shall  not  go  thus.  Abide  a little  while, 
falleth  on  to  and  thou  shalt  see  all  this  tangle  open,  as  the  sun  cleaveth  the 
handy  strokes,  clouds  on  the  autumn  morning.  Yet  lo  thou  ! since  thou  wilt 
have  it  so.’ 

And  he  bent  forward  and  kissed  her  face,  and  now  the  tears 
ran  over  it,  and  she  said  smiling  somewhat : ‘ Now  is  this  more 
than  I looked  for,  whatso  may  betide.’ 

But  while  she  was  yet  speaking  he  cried  in  a great  voice  : 
‘Ye  who  have  spent  your  shot,  or  have  nigh  spent  it,  to  axe  and 
sword,  and  follow  me  to  clear  the  ground  ’twixt  the  bent  and  the 
halls.  Let  each  help  each,  but  throng  not  each  other.  Shoot 
wisely,  ye  bowmen,  and  keep  our  backs  clear  of  the  foe.  On, 
on  ! for  the  Burg  and  the  Face,  for  the  Burg  and  the  Face  ! ’ 
Therewith  he  leapt  down  the  steep  of  the  hill,  bounding  like 
the  hart,  with  Dale-warden  naked  in  his  hand ; and  they  that 
followed  were  two  score  and  ten ; and  the  arrows  of  their  bow- 
men rained  over  their  heads  on  the  Dusky  Men,  as  they  smote 
down  the  first  of  the  foemen,  and  the  others  shrieked  and  shrank 
from  them,  or  turned  on  them  smiting  wildly  and  desperately. 

But  Face-of-god  swept  round  the  great  sword  and  plunged 
into  that  sea  of  turmoil  and  noise  and  evil  sights  and  savours, 
and  even  therewith  he  heard  clearly  a voice  that  said  : ‘ Gold- 
ring, I am  hurt ; take  my  bow  a while  ! ’ and  knew  it  for  Bow- 
may’s  ; but  it  came  to  his  ears  like  the  song  of  a bird  without 
meaning ; for  it  was  as  if  his  life  were  changed  at  once ; and  in 
a minute  or  two  he  had  cut  thrice  with  the  edge  and  thrust  twice 
with  the  point,  eager,  but  clear-eyed  and  deft ; and  he  saw  as  in 
a picture  the  foe  before  him,  and  the  grey  roofs  of  Silver-stead, 
and  through  the  gap  in  them  the  tops  of  the  blue  ridges  far 
aloof.  And  now  had  three  fallen  before  him,  and  they  feared 
him,  and  turned  on  him,  and  smote  so  many  together  that  their 
strokes  crossed  each  other,  and  one  warded  him  from  the  other; 
and  he  laughed  aloud  and  shielded  himself,  and  drave  the  point 
of  Dale-warden  amidst  the  tangle  of  weapons  through  the  open 


mouth  of  a captain  of  the  Felons,  and  slashed  a cheek  with  a 
back-stroke,  and  swept  round  the  edge  to  his  right  hand  and 
smote  off  a blue-eyed  snub-nosed  head ; and  therewith  a pole- 
axe smote  him  on  the  left  side  of  his  helm,  so  that  he  tottered;  but 
he  swung  himself  round,  and  stood  stark  and  upright,  and  gave 
a short  hack  with  the  edge,  keeping  Dale-warden  well  in  hand, 
and  a gold-clad  felon,  a champion  of  them,  and  their  tallest 
on  the  ground,  fell  aback,  his  throat  gaping  more  than  the  mouth 
of  him. 

Then  Face-of-god  shouted  and  waved  Dale-warden  aloft  to 
the  Banner  of  the  Wolf  that  floated  behind  and  above  him, 
and  he  cried  out : ‘ As  I have  promised  so  have  I done  ! ’ And 
he  looked  about,  and  beheld  how  valiantly  his  fellows  had  been 
doing ; for  before  him  now  was  a space  of  earth  with  no  man 
standing  on  his  feet  thereon,  like  the  swathe  of  the  mowers 
of  June ; and  beyond  that  was  the  crowd  of  the  Dusky  Men 
wavering  like  the  tall  grass  abiding  the  scythe. 

But  a minute,  and  they  fell  to  casting  at  Face-of-god  and 
his  fellows  spears  and  knives  and  shields  and  whatsoever  would 
fly ; and  a spear  smote  him  on  the  breast,  but  entered  not ; and 
a bossed  shield  fell  over  his  face  withal,  and  a plummet  of  sling- 
lead  smote  his  helm,  and  he  fell  to  earth;  but  leapt  up  again 
straightway,  and  heard  as  he  arose  a great  shout  close  to  him, 
and  a shrill  cry,  and  lo ! at  his  left  side  Bow-may,  her  sword  in 
her  hand,  and  the  hand  red  with  blood  from  a shaft-graze  on  her 
wrist,  and  a white  cloth  stained  with  blood  about  her  neck ; and 
on  his  right  side  Wood-wise  bearing  the  banner  and  crying  the 
Wolf-whoop;  for  the  whole  company  was  come  down  from  the 
slope  and  stood  around  him. 

Then  for  a little  while  was  there  such  a stilling  of  the  tumult 
about  him  there,  that  he  heard  great  and  glad  cries  from  the 
Road  of  the  South  of  ‘ The  Burg  and  the  Steer ! The  Dale  and 
the  Bridge  ! The  Dale  and  the  Bull ! ’ And  thereafter  a ter- 
rible great  shrieking  cry,  and  a huge  voice  that  cried : ‘ Death, 

347 


They  drive 
the  foenien 
aback. 


A song  of  the 
harvest. 


death,  death  to  the  Dusky  Men ! ^ And  thereafter  again  fierce 
cries  and  great  tumult  of  the  battle. 

Then  Face-of-god  shook  Dale-warden  in  the  air,  and  strode 
forward  fiercely,  but  not  speedily,  and  the  whole  company  went 
foot  for  foot  along  with  him;  and  as  he  went,  would  he  or 
would  he  not,  song  came  into  his  mouth,  a song  of  the  meadows 
of  the  Dale,  even  such  as  this : 

The  wheat  is  done  blooming  and  rust ’s  on  the  sickle. 

And  green  are  the  meadows  grown  after  the  scythe. 

Come,  hands  for  the  dance ! For  the  toil  hath  been  mickle. 
And  ’twixt  haysel  and  harvest  ’tis  time  to  be  blithe. 

And  what  shall  the  tale  be  now  dancing  is  over. 

And  kind  on  the  meadow  sits  maiden  by  man. 

And  the  old  man  bethinks  him  of  days  of  the  lover. 

And  the  warrior  remembers  the  field  that  he  wan  ? 

Shall  we  tell  of  the  dear  days  wherein  we  are  dwelling. 

The  best  days  of  our  Mother,  the  cherishing  Dale, 

When  all  round  about  us  the  summer  is  telling. 

To  ears  that  may  hearken,  the  heart  of  the  tale  ? 

Shall  we  sing  of  these  hands  and  these  lips  that  caress  us. 
And  the  limbs  that  sun-dappled  lie  light  here  beside. 

When  still  in  the  morning  they  rise  but  to  bless  us. 

And  oft  in  the  midnight  our  footsteps  abide  ? 

O nay,  but  to  tell  of  the  fathers  were  better. 

And  of  how  we  were  fashioned  from  out  of  the  earth ; 

Of  how  the  once  lowly  spurned  strong  at  the  fetter ; 

Of  the  days  of  the  deeds  and  beginning  of  mirth. 

And  then  when  the  feast-tide  is  done  in  the  morning. 

Shall  we  whet  the  grey  sickle  that  bideth  the  wheat, 

348 


Till  wan  grow  the  edges,  and  gleam  forth  a warning 
Of  the  field  and  the  fallow  where  edges  shall  meet. 

And  when  cometh  the  harvest,  and  hook  upon  shoulder 
We  enter  the  red  wheat  from  out  of  the  road, 

We  shall  sing,  as  we  wend,  of  the  bold  and  the  bolder. 

And  the  Burg  of  their  building,  the  beauteous  abode. 

As  smite th  the  sickle  amid  the  sun’s  burning 
We  shall  sing  how  the  sun  saw  the  token  unfurled, 

When  forth  fared  the  Folk,  with  no  thought  of  returning, 

In  the  days  when  the  Banner  went  wide  in  the  world. 

Many  saw  that  he  was  singing,  but  heard  not  the  words  of  his 
mouth,  for  great  was  the  noise  and  clamour.  But  he  heard  Bow- 
may,  how  she  laughed  by  his  side,  and  cried  out : 

Gold-mane,dear-heart,  now  art  thou  merry  indeed;  and  glad  am 
I,  though  they  told  me  that  I am  hurt. — Ah  ! now  beware,  beware ! ’ 

For  indeed  the  Dusky  Men,  seeing  the  wall  of  steel  rolling 
down  on  them,  and  cooped  up  by  the  houses,  so  that  they  scarce 
knew  how  to  flee,  turned  in  the  face  of  death,  the  foremost  of 
them,  and  rushed  furiously  on  the  array  of  the  Woodlanders,  and 
all  those  behind  pressed  on  them  like  the  big  wave  of  the  ebbing 
sea  when  the  gust  of  the  wind  driveth  it  landward. 

The  Woodlanders  met  them,  shouting  out : ^ The  Greenwood 
and  the  Wolf,  the  Greenwood  and  the  Wolf!  ’ But  not  a few 
of  them  fell  there,  though  they  gave  not  back  a foot;  for  so  fierce 
now  were  the  Dusky  Men,  that  hewing  and  thrusting  at  them 
availed  nought,  unless  they  were  slain  outright  or  stunned ; and 
even  if  they  fell  they  rolled  themselves  up  against  their  tall  foe- 
men,  heeding  not  death  or  wounds  if  they  might  but  slay  or 
wound.  There  then  fell  War-grove  and  ten  others  of  the  Wood- 
landers, and  four  men  of  the  Wolf,  but  none  before  he  had  slain 
his  foeman ; and  as  each  man  fell  or  was  hurt  grievously,  another 
took  his  place. 


The  Dusky 
Men  turn  on 
the  Wood- 
landers, 


349 


The  battle 
burns  up 
again. 


Now  a felon  leapt  up  and  caught  Gold-ring  by  the  neck  and 
drew  him  down,  while  another  strove  to  smite  his  head  off ; but 
the  stout  carle  drave  a wood-knife  into  the  side  of  the  first  felon, 
and  drew  it  out  speedily  and  smote  the  other,  the  smiter,  in  the  face 
with  the  same  knife,  and  therewith  they  all  three  rolled  together 
on  the  earth  amongst  the  feet  of  men.  Even  so  did  another  felon 
by  Bow-may,  and  dragged  her  down  to  the  ground,  and  smote 
her  with  a long  knife  as  she  tumbled  down ; and  this  was  a feat 
of  theirs,  for  they  were  long-armed  like  apes. 

But  as  to  this  felon.  Dale-warden’s  edge  split  his  skull,  and 
Face-of-god  gathered  his  might  together  and  bestrode  Bow-may, 
till  he  had  hewed  a space  round  about  him  with  great  two-handed 
strokes ; and  yet  the  blade  brake  not.  Then  he  caught  up  Bow- 
may  from  the  earth,  and  the  felon’s  knife  had  not  pierced  her 
hauberk,  but  she  was  astonied,  and  might  not  stand  upon  her 
feet;  and  Face-of-god  turned  aside  a little  with  her,  and  half 
bore  her,  half  thrust  her  through  the  throng  to  the  rearward  of 
his  folk,  and  left  her  there  with  two  carlines  of  the  Wolf  who 
followed  the  host  for  leechcraft’s  sake,  and  then  turned  back 
shouting:  ‘ For  the  Face,  for  the  Face!’  and  there  followed  him 
back  to  the  battle,  a band  of  those  who  were  fresh  as  yet,  and 
their  blades  unbloodied,  the  young  men  of  the  Woodlands. 

The  wearier  fighters  made  way  for  them  as  they  came  on 
shouting,  and  Face-of-god  was  ahead  of  them  all,  and  leapt  at 
the  foemen  as  a man  unwearied  and  striking  his  first  stroke,  so 
wondrous  hale  he  was  ; and  they  drave  a wedge  amidst  of  the 
Dusky  Men,  and  then  turned  about  and  stood  back  to  back  hew- 
ing at  all  that  drifted  on  them.  But  as  Face-of-god  cleared  a 
space  about  him,  lo ! almost  within  reach  of  his  sword-point  up 
rose  a grim  shape  from  the  earth,  tall,  grey-haired,  and  bloody- 
faced,  who  uttered  the  Wolf-whoop  from  amidst  the  terror  of 
his  visage,  and  turned  and  swung  round  his  head  an  axe  of  the 
Dusky  Men,  and  fell  to  smiting  them  with  their  own  weapon. 
The  Dusky  Men  shrieked  in  answer  to  his  whoop,  and  all  shrunk 

350 


from  him  and  Face-of-god ; but  a cry  of  joy  went  up  from  the 
kindred,  for  they  knew  Gold-ring,  whom  they  deemed  had  been 
slain.  So  they  all  pressed  on  together,  smiting  down  the  foe 
before  them,  and  the  Dusky  Men,  some  turned  their  backs  and 
drave  those  behind  them,  till  they  too  turned  and  were  strained 
through  the  passages  and  courts  of  the  houses,  and  some  were 
overthrown  and  trodden  down  as  they  strove  to  hold  face  to  the 
Woodlanders,  and  some  were  hewn  down  where  they  stood;  but 
the  whole  throng  of  those  that  were  on  their  feet  drifted  toward 
the  Market-place,  the  Woodlanders  following  them  ever  with 
point  and  edge,  till  betwixt  the  bent  and  the  houses  no  foeman 
stood  up  against  them. 

Then  they  stood  together,  and  raised  the  whoop  of  victory, 
and  blew  their  horns  long  and  loud  in  token  of  their  joy,  and  the 
Woodland  men  lifted  up  their  voices  and  sang  : 


The  Dusky 
Men  over- 
thrown before 
the  kindreds. 


Now  far,  far  aloof 
Standeth  lintel  and  roof, 

The  dwelling  of  days 
Of  the  Woodland  ways  : 

Now  nought  wendeth  there 
Save  the  wolf  and  the  bear. 

And  the  fox  of  the  waste 
Faring  soft  without  haste. 

No  carle  the  axe  whetteth  on  oak-laden  hill ; 

No  shaft  the  hart  letteth  to  wend  at  his  will ; 

None  heedeth  the  thunder-clap  over  the  glade. 

And  the  wind-storm  thereunder  makes  no  man  afraid. 
Is  it  thus  then  that  endeth  man’s  days  on  Mid-earth, 
For  no  man  there  wendeth  in  sorrow  or  mirth? 


Nay,  look  down  on  the  road 
From  the  ancient  abode  ! 
Betwixt  acre  and  field 
Shineth  helm,  shineth  shield. 

351 


The  Song  of 
the  Wood- 
land Wolf. 

And  high  over  the  heath 
Fares  the  bane  in  his  sheath  ; 

For  the  wise  men  and  bold 
Go  their  ways  o’er  the  wold. 

Now  the  Warrior  hath  given  them  heart  and  fair  day, 
Unbidden,  undriven,  they  fare  to  the  fray. 

By  the  rock  and  the  river  the  banners  they  bear, 

And  their  battle-staves  quiver  ’neath  halbert  and  spear ; 
On  the  hill’s  brow  they  gather,  and  hang  o’er  the  Dale 
As  the  clouds  of  the  Father  hang,  laden  with  bale. 

Down  shineth  the  sun 
On  the  war-deed  half  done  ; 

All  the  fore-doomed  to  die. 

In  the  pale  dust  they  lie. 

There  they  leapt,  there  they  fell. 

And  their  tale  shall  we  tell ; 

But  we,  e’en  in  the  gate 
Of  the  war-garth  we  wait. 

Till  the  drift  of  war-weather  shall  whistle  us  on. 

And  we  tread  all  together  the  way  to  be  won. 

To  the  dear  land,  the  dwelling  for  whose  sake  we  came 
To  do  deeds  for  the  telling  of  song-becrowned  fame. 
Settle  helm  on  the  head  then!  Heave  sword  for  the  Dale! 
Nor  be  mocked  of  the  dead  men  for  deedless  and  pale. 

CHAPTER  XLVI.  MEN  MEET  IN  THE  MARKET  OF 
SILVER-STEAD. 

^^O  sang  they;  but  Face-of-god  went  with  Red- wolf,  who  was 
hurt  sorely,  but  not  deadly,  and  led  him  back  toward  the  place 
just  under  the  break  of  the  bent ; and  there  he  found  Bow- 
may  in  the  hands  of  the  women  who  were  tending  her  hurts.  She 

352 

sniiled  on  him  from  a pale  face  as  he  drew  nigh,  and  he  looked 
kindly  at  her,  but  he  might  not  abide  there,  for  haste  was  in 
his  feet.  He  left  Red-wolf  to  the  tending  of  the  women,  and 
clomb  the  bent  hastily,  and  when  he  deemed  he  was  high  enough, 
he  looked  about  him ; and  somewhat  more  than  half  an  hour 
had  worn  since  Bow-may  had  sped  the  first  shaft  against  the 
Dusky  Men. 

He  looked  down  into  the  Market-stead,  and  deemed  he  could 
see  that  nigh  the  Mote-house  the  Dusky  Men  were  gathering  into 
some  better  order ; but  they  were  no  longer  drifting  toward  the 
southern  bents,  but  were  standing  round  about  the  altar  as  men 
abiding  somewhat ; and  he  deemed  that  they  had  gotten  more 
bowshot  than  before,  and  that  most  of  them  bare  bows.  Though 
so  many  had  been  slain  in  the  battles  of  the  southern  bents,  yet 
was  the  Market-stead  full  of  them,  so  to  say,  for  others  had  come 
thereto  in  place  of  those  that  had  fallen. 

But  now  as  he  looked  arose  mighty  clamour  amongst  them ; 
and  a little  west  of  the  Altar  was  a stir  and  a hurrying  onward 
and  around  as  in  the  eddies  of  a swift  stream.  Face-of-god  wotted 
not  what  was  betiding  there,  but  he  deemed  that  they  were  now 
ware  of  the  onfall  of  Folk-might  and  Hall-face  and  the  men  of 
Burgdale,  for  their  faces  were  all  turned  to  where  that  was  to  be 
looked  for. 

So  he  turned  and  looked  on  the  road  to  the  east  of  him,  where 
had  been  the  battle  of  the  Steer,  but  now  it  was  all  gone  down 
toward  the  Market-place,  and  he  could  but  hear  the  clamour  of 
it ; but  nought  he  saw  thereof,  because  of  the  houses  that  hid  it. 

Then  he  cast  his  eyes  on  the  road  that  entered  the  Market- 
stead  from  the  north,  and  he  saw  thereon  many  men  gathered  ; 
and  he  wotted  not  what  they  were  ; for  though  there  were  wea- 
pons amongst  them,  yet  were  they  not  all  weaponed,  as  far  as  he 
could  see. 

Now  as  he  looked  this  way  and  that,  and  deemed  that  he  must 
tarry  no  longer,  but  must  enter  into  the  courts  of  the  houses 

353  zz 


Face-of-god 
looketh  into 
the  battle 
again. 


before  him  and  make  his  way  into  the  Market-stead,  lo ! a 
change  in  the  throng  of  Dusky  Warriors  nigh  the  Mote-house, 
and  the  ordered  bands  about  the  Altar  fell  to  drifting  toward 
the  western  wa}"  with  one  accord,  with  great  noise  and  hurry  and 
fierce  cries  of  wrath.  Then  made  Face-of-god  no  delay,  but 
ran  down  the  bent  at  once,  and  at  the  break  of  it  came  upon 
Bow-may  standing  upright  and  sword  in  hand ; and  as  he  passed, 
she  joined  herself  to  him,  and  said  : ‘ What  new  tidings  now. 
Gold-mane  ? ’ 

‘Tidings  of  battle ! ’ he  cried;  ‘ tidings  of  victory!  F'olk-might 
hath  fallen  on,  and  the  Dusky  Men  run  hastily  to  meet  him. 
Hark,  hark ! ’ 

For  as  he  spoke  came  a great  noise  of  horns,  and  Bow-may 
said  : ‘ What  horn  is  that  blowing  ? ’ 

He  stayed  not,  but  shouted  aloud : ‘ For  the  Face,  for  the 
Face  1 Now  will  we  fall  upon  their  backs  1 ’ 

Therewith  was  he  come  to  his  company,  and  he  cried  out  to 
them  : ‘ Heard  ye  the  horn,  heard  ye  the  horn  ? Now  follow  me 
into  the  Market-place  ; much  is  yet  to  do  ! ' 

Even  therewith  came  the  sound  of  other  horns,  and  all  men  were 
silent  a moment,  and  then  shouted  all  together,  for  the  Wood- 
landers  knew  it  for  the  horn  of  the  Shepherds  coming  on  by  the 
eastward  way. 

But  Face-of-god  waved  his  sword  aloft  and  set  on  at  once,  and 
they  followed  and  gat  them  through  the  courts  of  the  houses  and 
their  passages  into  the  Market-place.  There  they  found  more 
room  than  they  looked  to  find  ; for  the  foemen  had  drawn  away 
on  the  left  hand  toward  the  battle  of  Folk-might,  and  on  the  right 
hand  toward  the  battle  of  the  Steer  ; and  great  was  the  noise  and 
cry  that  came  thence. 

Now  stood  Face-of-god  under  the  two  banners  of  the  Wolf  in 
the  Market-place  of  Silver-stead,  and  scarce  hadhe  time  to  be  high- 
hearted, for  needs  must  he  ponder  in  his  mind  what  thing  were 
best  to  do.  For  on  the  left  hand  he  deemed  the  foe  was  the 

354 


strongest  and  best  ordered ; but  there  also  were  the  kindreds  the  Face-of-god 
doughtiest,  and  it  was  little  like  that  the  felons  should  overcome  the  pondereth 
spear-casters  of  the  Face  and  the  glaive-bearers  of  the  Sickle,  and 
the  bowmen  of  the  Vine  : there  also  were  the  wisest  leaders,  as  ^ ^ ^ 

the  stark  elder  Stone-face,  and  the  tall  Hall-face,  and  his  father 
of  the  unshaken  heart,  and  above  all  Folk-might,  fierce  in  his 
wrath,  but  his  anger  burning  steady  and  clear,  like  the  oaken  butt 
on  the  hearth  of  the  hall. 

Then  as  his  mind  pictured  him  amongst  the  foe,  it  made  there- 
with another  picture  of  the  slender  warrior  Sun-beam  caught  in 
the  tangle  of  battle,  and  longing  for  him  and  calling  for  him  amidst 
the  hard  hand-play.  And  thereat  his  face  flushed,  and  all  his  body 
waxed  hot,  and  he  was  on  the  very  point  of  leading  the  onset 
against  the  foe  on  the  left.  But  therewith  he  bethought  him  of 
the  bold  men  of  the  Steer  and  the  Bridge  and  the  Bull  weary 
with  much  fighting  ; and  he  remembered  also  that  the  Bride  was 
amongst  them  and  fighting,  it  might  be,  amidst  the  foremost,  and 
if  she  were  slain  how  should  he  ever  hold  up  his  head  again.  He 
bethought  him  also  that  the  Shepherds,  who  had  fallen  on  by  the 
eastern  road,  valiant  as  they  were,  were  scarce  so  well  armed  or 
so  well  led  as  the  others.  Therewithal  he  bethought  him  (and 
again  it  came  like  a picture  into  his  mind)  of  falling  on  the  foe- 
men  by  whom  the  southern  battle  was  beset,  and  then  the  twain 
of  them  meeting  the  Shepherds,  and  lastly,  all  those  three  com- 
panies joined  together  clearing  the  Market-place,  and  meeting  the 
men  under  Folk-might  in  the  midst  thereof. 

Therefore,  scant  had  he  been  pondering  these  things  in  his 
mind  for  a minute  ere  he  cried  out : ‘ Blow  up  horns,  blow  up ! 
forward  banners,  and  follow  me,  O valiant  men  ! to  the  helping  of 
the  Steer,  the  Bridge,  and  the  Bull ; deep  have  they  thrust  into 
the  Dusky  Throng,  and  belike  are  hard  pressed.  Hark  how  the 
clamour  ariseth  from  their  besetters ! On  now,  on  ! ’ 

Therewith  hung  a star  of  sunlight  on  his  sword  as  he  raised 
it  aloft,  and  the  Wolf-whoop  rang  out  terribly  in  the  Market- 

355 


They  fall  on 
the  besetters 
of  the  south- 
ern road. 


place,  for  now  had  the  Woodlanders  also  learned  it,  and  the  hearts 
of  the  foemen  sank  as  they  heard  the  might  and  the  mass  thereof. 
Then  the  battle  of  the  Woodlanders  swept  round  and  fell  upon 
the  flank  of  them  who  were  besetting  the  kindreds,  as  an  iron  bar 
smiteth  the  soft  fir-wood ; and  they  of  the  kindreds  heard  their 
cry,  but  faintly  and  confusedly,  so  great  was  the  turmoil  of  battle 
about  them. 

Now  once  more  was  Bow-may  by  the  side  of  Face-of-god; 
and  if  she  had  not  the  might  of  the  mightiest,  yet  had  she  the 
deftness  of  the  deftest.  And  now  was  she  calm  and  cool,  shield- 
ing herself  with  a copper-bossed  target,  and  driving  home  the 
point  of  her  sharp  sword ; white  was  her  face,  and  her  eyes 
glittered  amidst  it,  and  she  seemed  to  men  like  to  those  on  whose 
heads  the  Warrior  hath  laid  the  Holy  Bread. 

As  to  Wood-wise,  he  had  given  the  Banner  of  the  red-jawed 
Wolf  to  Stone-wolf,  a huge  and  dreadful  warrior  some  forty 
winters  old,  who  had  fought  in  the  Great  Overthrow,  and  now 
hewed  down  the  Dusky  Men,  wielding  a heavy  short-sword  left- 
handed.  But  Wood-wise  himself  fought  with  a great  sword, 
giving  great  strokes  to  the  right  hand  and  the  left,  and  was  no 
more  hasty  than  is  the  hewer  in  the  winter  wood. 

Face-of-god  fought  wisely  and  coldly  now,  and  looked  more 
to  warding  his  friends  than  destroying  his  foes,  and  both  to  Bow- 
may  and  Wood-wise  his  sword  was  a shield  ; for  oft  he  took  the 
life  from  the  edge  of  the  upraised  axe,  and  stayed  the  point  of 
the  foeman  in  mid-air. 

Even  so  wisely  fought  the  whole  band  of  the  Woodlanders 
and  the  Wolves,  who  got  within  smiting  space  of  the  foe ; for 
they  had  no  will  to  cast  away  their  lives  when  assured  victory 
was  so  nigh  to  them.  Sooth  to  say,  the  hand-play  was  not  so 
hard  to  them  as  it  had  been  betwixt  the  bent  and  the  houses ; 
for  the  Dusky  Men  were  intent  on  dealing  with  the  men  of  the 
kindreds  from  the  southern  road,  who  stood  war- wearied  before 
them ; and  they  were  hewing  and  casting  at  them,  and  baying 


and  yelling  like  dogs  ; and  though  they  turned  about  to  meet  the  Evil  tidings, 
storm  of  the  Woodlanders,  yet  their  hearts  failed  them  withal, 
and  they  strove  to  edge  away  from  betwixt  those  two  fearful 
scythes  of  war,  fighting  as  men  fleeing,  not  as  men  in  onset. 

But  still  the  Woodlanders  and  the  Wolves  came  on,  hewing  and 
thrusting,  smiting  down  the  foemen  in  heaps,  till  the  Dusky 
Throng  grew  thin,  and  the  staves  of  the  Dalesmen  and  their 
bright  banners  in  the  morning  sun  were  clear  to  see,  and  at  last 
their  very  faces,  kindly  and  familiar,  worn  and  strained  with  the 
stress  of  battle,  or  laughing  wildly,  or  pale  with  the  fury  of  the 
fight.  Then  rose  up  to  the  heavens  the  blended  shout  of  the 
Woodlanders  and  the  Dalesmen,  and  now  there  was  nought  of 
foemen  betwixt  them  save  the  dead  and  the  wounded. 

Then  Face-of-god  thrust  his  sword  into  its  sheath  all  bloody 
as  it  was,  and  strode  over  the  dead  men  to  where  Hall- ward  stood 
under  the  banner  of  the  Steer,  and  cast  his  arms  about  the  old 
carle,  and  kissed  him  for  joy  of  the  victory.  But  Hall-ward  thrust 
him  aback  and  looked  him  in  the  face,  and  his  cheeks  were  pale 
and  his  lips  clenched,  and  his  eyes  haggard  and  staring,  and  he 
said  in  a harsh  voice : 

^ O young  man,  she  is  dead ! I saw  her  fall.  The  Bride  is 
dead,  and  thou  hast  lost  thy  troth-plight  maiden.  O death,  death 
to  the  Dusky  Men  ! ’ 

Then  grew  Face-of-god  as  pale  as  a linen  sleeve,  and  all  the 
new-comers  groaned  and  cried  out.  But  a bystander  said : ‘Nay, 
nay,  it  is  nought  so  bad  as  that ; she  is  hurt,  and  sorely ; but  she 
liveth  yet.’ 

Face-of-god  heard  him  not.  He  forgot  Dale-warden  lying 
in  his  sheath,  and  he  saw  that  the  last  speaker  had  a great  wood- 
axe  broad  and  heavy  in  his  hand,  so  he  cried  : ‘ Man,  man,  thine 
axe ! ’ and  snatched  it  from  him,  and  turned  about  to  the  foe 
again,  and  thrust  through  the  ranks,  suffering  none  to  stay  him 
till  all  his  friends  were  behind  and  all  his  foes  before  him.  And 
as  he  burst  forth  from  the  ranks  waving  his  axe  aloft,  bare-headed 

357 


The  bale-fire 
burneth. 


now,  his  yellow  hair  flying  abroad,  his  mouth  crying  out,  * Death, 
death,  death  to  the  Dusky  Men ! ’ fear  of  him  smote  their  hearts, 
and  they  howled  and  fled  before  him  as  they  might ; for  they 
said  that  the  Dalesmen  had  prayed  their  Gods  into  the  battle. 
But  not  so  fast  could  they  flee  but  he  was  presently  amidst  them, 
smiting  down  all  about  him,  and  they  so  terror-stricken  that 
scarce  might  they  raise  a hand  against  him.  All  that  blended 
host  followed  him  mad  with  wrath  and  victory,  and  as  they  pressed 
on,  they  heard  behind  them  the  horns  and  war-cries  of  the  Shep- 
herds falling  on  from  the  east.  Nought  they  heeded  that  now, 
but  drave  on  a fearful  storm  of  war,  and  terrible  was  the  slaughter 
of  the  Felons. 

It  was  but  a few  minutes  ere  they  had  driven  them  up  against 
that  great  stack  of  faggots  that  had  been  dight  for  the  burnt- 
offering  of  men,  and  many  of  the  felons  had  mounted  up  on  to  it, 
and  now  in  their  anguish  of  fear  were  shooting  arrows  and  cast- 
ing spears  on  all  about  them,  heeding  little  if  they  were  friend  or 
foe.  Now  were  the  men  of  the  kindreds  at  point  to  climb  this 
twiggen  burg ; but  by  this  time  the  fury  of  Face-of-god  had  run 
clear,  and  he  knew  where  he  was  and  what  he  was  doing ; so  he 
stayed  his  folk,  and  cried  out  to  them  : ‘ Forbear,  climb  not ! let 
the  torch  help  the  sword  ! ’ And  therewith  he  looked  about  and 
saw  the  fire-pot  which  had  been  set  down  there  for  the  kindling 
of  the  bale-fire,  and  the  coals  were  yet  red  in  it ; so  he  snatched 
up  a dry  brand  and  lighted  it  thereat,  and  so  did  divers  others, 
and  they  thrust  them  among  the  faggots,  and  the  fire  caught 
at  once,  and  the  tongues  of  flame  began  to  leap  from  faggot  to 
faggot  till  all  was  in  a light  low ; for  the  wood  had  been  laid  for 
that  very  end,  and  smeared  with  grease  and  oil  so  that  the  burn- 
ing to  the  god  might  be  speedy. 

But  the  fierceness  of  the  kindreds  heeded  not  the  fire,  nor  over- 
much the  men  who  leapt  down  from  the  stack  before  it,  but  they 
left  all  behind  them,  faring  straight  toward  the  western  outgate 
from  the  Market-stead ; and  Face-of-god  still  led  them  on ; 

358 


though  by  now  he  was  wholly  come  to  his  right  mind  again, 
albeit  the  burden  of  sorrow  yet  lay  heavy  on  his  heart.  He  had 
broken  his  axe,  and  had  once  more  drawn  Dale- warden  from  his 
sheath,  and  many  felt  his  point  and  edge. 

But  now,  as  they  chased,  came  a rush  of  men  upon  them  again, 
as  though  a new  onset  were  at  hand.  That  saw  Face-of-god  and 
Hall- ward  and  War-well,  and  other  wise  leaders  of  men,  and 
they  bade  their  folk  forbear  the  chase,  and  lock  their  ranks  to  meet 
the  onfall  of  this  new  wave  of  foemen.  And  they  did  so,  and 
stood  fast  as  a wall ; but  lo  ! the  onrush  that  drave  up  against 
them  was  but  a fleeing  shrieking  throng,  and  no  longer  an  array 
of  warriors,  for  many  had  cast  away  their  weapons,  and  were 
rushing  they  knew  not  whither ; for  they  were  being  thrust  on 
the  bitter  edges  of  Face-of-god’ s companies  by  the  terror  of  the 
fleers  from  the  onset  of  the  men  of  the  Face,  the  Sickle,  and  the 
Vine,  whom  Hall-face  and  Stone-face  were  leading,  along  with 
Folk-might.  Then  once  again  the  men  of  Face-of-god  gave 
forth  the  whoop  of  victory,  and  pressed  forward  again,  hewing 
their  way  through  the  throng  of  fleers,  but  turning  not  to  chase 
to  the  right  or  the  left;  while  at  their  backs  came  on  the  Shepherd- 
folk,  who  had  swept  down  all  that  withstood  them ; for  now  indeed 
was  the  Market-stead  getting  thinner  of  living  men. 

So  led  the  War-leader  his  ordered  ranks,  till  at  last  over  the 
tangled  crowd  of  runaways  he  saw  the  banners  of  the  Burg  and 
the  Face  flashing  against  the  sun,  and  heard  the  roar  of  the  kin- 
dreds as  they  drave  the  chase  towards  them.  Then  he  lifted  up 
his  sword,  and  stood  still,  and  all  the  host  behind  him  stayed  and 
cast  a huge  shout  up  to  the  heavens,  and  there  they  abode  the 
coming  of  the  other  Dalesmen. 

But  the  War-leader  sent  a message  to  Hound-under-Green- 
bury,  bidding  him  lead  the  Shepherds  to  the  chase  of  the  Dusky 
Men,  who  were  now  all  fleeing  toward  the  northern  outgate  of 
the  Market.  Howbeit  he  called  to  mind  the  throng  he  had  seen 
on  the  northern  road  before  they  were  come  into  the  Market- 

359 


The  meeting 
in  the 
Market- 
place. 


Here  cometh 
the  Sun- 
beam. 


Stead,  and  deemed  that  way  also  death  awaited  the  foemen,  even 
if  the  men  of  the  kindreds  forbore  them. 

But  presently  the  space  betwixt  the  Woodlanders  and  the  men 
of  the  Face  was  clear  of  all  but  the  dead,  so  that  friend  saw  the 
face  of  friend  ; and  it  could  be  seen  that  the  warriors  of  the  Face 
were  ruddy  and  smiling  for  joy,  because  the  battle  had  been  easy 
to  them,  and  but  few  of  them  had  fallen ; for  the  Dusky  Men, 
who  had  left  the  Market-stead  to  fall  on  them,  had  had  room  for 
fleeing  behind  them,  and  had  speedily  turned  their  backs  before 
the  spear-casting  of  the  men  of  the  Face  and  the  onrush  of  the 
swordsmen. 

There  then  stood  these  victorious  men  facing  one  another,  and 
the  banner-bearers  on  either  side  came  through  the  throng,  and 
brought  the  banners  together  between  the  two  hosts ; and  the 
Wolf  kissed  the  Face,  and  the  Sickle  and  the  Vine  met  the  Steer 
and  the  Bridge  and  the  Bull : but  the  Shepherds  were  yet  chasing 
the  fleers. 

There  in  the  forefront  stood  Hall-face  the  tall,  with  the  joy  of 
battle  in  his  eyes.  And  Stone-face,  the  wise  carle  in  war,  stood 
solemn  and  stark  beside  him;  and  there  was  the  goodly  body 
and  the  fair  and  kindly  visage  of  the  Alderman  smiling  on  the 
faces  of  his  friends.  But  as  for  Folk-might,  his  face  was  yet 
white  and  aweful  with  anger,  and  he  looked  restlessly  up  and 
down  the  front  of  the  kindreds,  though  he  spake  no  word. 

Then  Face-of-god  could  no  longer  forbear,  but  he  thrust  Dale- 
warden  into  his  sheath,  and  ran  forward  and  cast  his  arms  about 
his  father’s  neck  and  kissed  him ; and  the  blood  of  himself  and 
of  the  foemen  was  on  him,  for  he  had  been  hurt  in  divers  places, 
but  not  sorely,  because  of  the  good  hammer- work  of  the  Alderman. 

Then  he  kissed  his  brother  and  Stone-face,  and  he  took  Folk- 
might  by  the  hand,  and  was  on  the  point  of  speaking  some  word 
to  him,  when  the  ranks  of  the  Face  opened,  and  lo ! the  Sun- 
beam in  her  bright  war-gear,  and  the  sword  girt  to  her  side,  and 
she  unhurt  and  unsullied. 


360 


Then  was  it  to  him  as  when  he  met  her  first  in  Shadowy 
Vale,  and  he  thought  of  little  else  than  her;  but  she  stepped 
lightly  up  to  him,  and  unashamed  before  the  whole  host  she 
kissed  him  on  the  mouth,  and  he  cast  his  mailed  arms  about  her, 
and  joy  made  him  forget  many  things  and  what  was  next  to  do, 
though  even  at  that  moment  came  afresh  a great  clamour  of 
shrieks  and  cries  from  the  northern  outgate  of  the  Market-stead  : 
and  the  burning  pile  behind  them  cast  a great  wavering  flame 
into  the  air,  contending  with  the  bright  sun  of  that  fair  day,  now 
come  hard  on  noontide.  But  ere  he  drew  away  his  face  from 
the  Sun-beam’s,  came  memory  to  him,  and  a sharp  pang  shot 
through  his  heart,  as  he  heard  Folk-might  say:  ‘ Where  then  is 
the  Shield-may  of  Burgstead  ? where  is  the  Bride  ? ’ 

And  Face-of-god  said  under  his  breath:  ‘She  is  dead,  she  is 
dead  ! ’ And  then  he  stared  out  straight  before  him  and  waited 
till  someone  else  should  say  it  aloud.  But  Bow-may  stepped 
forward  and  said  : ‘ Chief  of  the  Wolf,  be  of  good  cheer  ; our 
kinswoman  is  hurt,  but  not  deadly.’ 

The  Alderman’s  face  changed,  and  he  said  : ‘ Hast  thou  seen 
her.  Bow-may  ? ’ 

‘ Nay,’  she  said.  ‘ How  should  I leave  the  battle  ? but  others 
have  told  me  who  have  seen  her.’ 

Folk-might  stared  into  the  ranks  of  men  before  him,  but  said 
nothing.  Said  the  Alderman  : ‘ Is  she  well  tended  ? ’ 

‘Yea,  surely,’  said  Bow-may,  ‘since  she  is  amongst  friends, 
and  there  are  no  foemen  behind  us.’ 

Then  came  a voice  from  Folk-might  which  said : ‘Now  were  it 
best  to  send  good  men  and  deft  in  arms,  and  who  know  Silver-dale, 
from  house  to  house,  tosearchforfoemen  who  maybelurking  there.’ 
The  Alderman  looked  kindly  and  sadly  on  him  and  said : 

‘ Kinsman  Stone-face,  and  Hall-face  my  son,  the  brunt  of  the 
battle  is  now  over,  and  I am  but  a simple  man  amongst  you  ; 
therefore,  if  ye  will  give  me  leave,  I will  go  see  this  poor  kins- 
woman of  ours,  and  comfort  her.’ 

361  3 A 


Folk-might 
heareth  how 
the  Bride  is 
hurt. 


Face-of-god  They  bade  him  go : so  he  sheathed  his  sword,  and  wencithrough 
weepeth  for  the  press  with  two  men  of  the  Steer  toward  the  southern  road  ; 
the  Bride.  Bride  had  been  brought  into  a house  nigh  the  corner  of 

the  Market-place. 

But  Face-of-god  looked  after  his  father  as  he  went,  and 
remembrance  of  past  days  came  upon  him,  and  such  a storm  of 
grief  swept  over  him,  as  he  thought  of  the  Bride  lying  pale  and 
bleeding  and  brought  anigh  to  her  death,  that  he  put  his  hands 
to  his  face  and  wept  as  a child  that  will  not  be  comforted ; nor 
had  he  any  shame  of  all  those  bystanders,  who  in  sooth  were 
men  good  and  kindly,  and  had  no  shame  of  his  grief  or  marvelled 
at  it,  for  indeed  their  own  hearts  were  sore  for  their  lovely  kins- 
woman, and  many  of  them  also  wept  with  Face-of-god.  But  the 
Sun-beam  stood  by  and  looked  on  her  betrothed,  and  she  thought 
many  things  of  the  Bride,  and  was  sorry,  albeit  no  tears  came 
into  her  eyes ; then  she  looked  askance  at  Folk-might  and 
trembled  ; but  he  said  coldly,  and  in  a loud  voice : 

‘ Needs  must  we  search  the  houses  for  the  lurking  felons,  or 
many  a man  will  yet  be  murdered.  Let  Wood-wicked  lead  a 
band  of  men  at  once  from  house  to  house.’ 

Then  said  a man  of  the  Wolf  hight  Hardgrip  : ‘ Wood-wicked 
was  slain  betwixt  the  bent  and  the  houses.’ 

Said  Folk-might : ‘ Let  it  be  Wood-wise  then.’ 

But  Bow-may  said : ‘ Wood- wise  is  even  now  hurt  in  the  leg 
by  a wounded  felon,  and  may  not  go  afoot.’ 

Then  said  Folk-might : ‘ Is  Crow  the  Shaft-speeder  anigh  ?* 
‘ Yea,  here  am  I,’  quoth  a tall  man  of  fifty  winters,  coming 
from  out  the  ranks  where  stood  the  Wolves. 

Said  Folk-might : ‘ Kinsman  Crow,  do  thou  take  two  score 
and  ten  of  doughty  men  who  are  not  too  hot-headed,  and  search 
every  house  about  the  Market-place ; but  if  ye  come  on  any 
house  that  makes  a stout  defence,  send  ye  word  thereof  to  the 
Mote-house,  where  we  will  presently  be,  and  we  shall  send  you 
help.  Slay  every  felon  that  ye  fall  in  with ; but  if  ye  find  in  the 

362 


houses  any  of  the  poor  folk  crouching  and  afraid,  comfort  their 
hearts  all  ye  may,  and  tell  them  that  now  is  life  come  to  them.’ 
So  Crow  fell  to  getting  his  band  together,  and  presently  de- 
parted with  them  on  his  errand. 


CHAPTER  XLVII.  THE  KINDREDS  WIN  THE  MOTE- 
HOUSE. 

The  din  and  tumult  still  came  from  the  north  side  of  the 
Market-place,  so  that  all  the  air  was  full  of  noise  ; and 
Face-of-god  deemed  that  the  thralls  had  gotten  weapons 
into  their  hands  and  were  slaying  their  masters. 

Now  he  lifted  up  his  face,  and  put  his  hand  on  Folk-might’s 
shoulder,  and  said  in  a loud  voice  : 

‘ Kinsmen,  it  were  well  if  our  brother  were  to  bid  the  banners 
into  the  Mote-house  of  the  Wolf,  and  let  all  the  Host  set  itself  in 
array  before  the  said  house,  and  abide  till  the  chasers  of  the  foe 
come  to  us  thither ; for  I perceive  that  they  are  now  become 
many,  and  are  more  than  those  of  our  kindred.’ 

Then  Folk-might  looked  at  him  with  kind  eyes,  and  said : 

^ Thou  sayest  well,  brother  ; even  so  let  it  be  ! ’ 

And  he  lifted  up  his  sword,  and  Face-of-god  cried  out  in  a 
loud  voice  : ^ Forward,  banners  ! blow  up  horns  ! fare  we  forth 
with  victory  ! ’ 

So  the  Host  drew  its  ranks  together  in  good  order,  and  they  all 
set  forward,  and  old  Stone-face  took  the  Sun-beam  by  the  hand 
and  led  on  behind  Folk-might  and  the  War-leader.  But  when 
they  came  to  the  Hall,  then  saw  they  how  the  steps  that  led  up 
to  the  door  were  high  and  double,  going  up  from  each  side  with- 
out any  railing  or  fool-guard  ; and  crowding  the  stairs  and  the 
platform  thereof  was  a band  of  the  Dusky  Men,  as  many  as 
could  stand  thereon,  who  shot  arrows  at  the  host  of  the  kindreds, 
howling  like  dogs,  and  chattering  like  apes;  and  arrows  and 

363 


The  stair  of 
the  Mote- 
house. 


Folk-might 
would  clear 
the  stair 
alone,  and  is 
gainsaid. 


spears  came  from  the  windows  of  the  Hall ; yea,  and  on  the  very 
roof  a score  of  these  felons  were  riding  the  ridge  and  mocking 
like  the  trolls  of  old  days. 

Now  when  they  saw  this  they  stayed  a while,  and  men 
shielded  them  against  the  shafts ; but  the  leaders  drew  together 
in  front  of  the  Host,  and  Folk-might  fell  to  speech  ; and  his  face 
was  very  pale  and  stern ; for  now  he  had  had  time  to  think  of 
the  case  of  the  Bride,  and  fierce  wrath,  and  grief  unholpen  filled 
his  soul.  So  he  said: 

‘ Brothers,  this  is  mj^  business  to  deal  with  ; for  I see  before 
me  the  stair  that  leadeth  to  the  Mote-house  of  my  people,  and 
now  would  I sit  there  whereas  my  fathers  sat,  when  peace  was  on 
the  Dale,  as  once  more  it  shall  be  to-morrow.  Therefore  up  this 
stair  will  I go,  and  none  shall  hinder  me  ; and  let  no  man  of  the 
host  follow  me  till  I have  entered  into  the  Hall,  unless  perchance 
I fall  dead  by  the  way  ; but  stand  ye  still  and  look  on.’ 

‘Nay,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘this  is  partly  the  business  of  the 
War-leader.  There  are  two  stairs.  Be  content  to  take  the 
southern  one,  and  I will  take  the  northern.  We  shall  meet  on 
the  plain  stone  at  the  top.’ 

But  Hall-face  said  : ‘ War-leader,  may  I speak  ? ’ 

‘Speak,  brother,’  said  Face-of-god. 

Said  Hall-face  : ‘ I have  done  but  little  to-day.  War-leader.  I 
would  stand  by  thee  on  the  northern  stair  ; so  shall  Folk-might 
be  content,  if  he  doeth  two  men’s  work  who  are  not  little-hearted.’ 
Said  Face-of-god : ‘The  doom  of  the  War-leader  is  that  Folk- 
might  shall  fall  on  by  the  southern  stair  to  slake  his  grief  and  in- 
crease his  glory,  and  Face-of-god  and  Hall-face  by  the  northern. 
Haste  to  the  work,  O brothers ! 

And  he  and  Hall-face  went  to  their  places,  while  all  looked 
on.  But  the  Sun-beam,  with  her  hand  still  in  Stone-face’s,  she 
turned  white  to  the  lips,  and  stared  with  wild  eyes  before  her, 
not  knowing  where  she  was ; for  she  had  deemed  that  the  battle 
was  over,  and  Face-of-god  saved  from  it. 


But  Folk-might  tossed  up  his  head  and  laughed,  and  cried  out,  Folk-might’s 
‘ At  last,  at  last !’  And  his  sword  was  in  his  hand,  the  Sleep-  onslaught  at 
thorn  to  wit,  a blade  of  ancient  fame  ; so  now  he  let  it  fall  and 
hang  to  his  wrist  by  the  leash,  while  he  clapped  his  hands  together 
and  uttered  the  Wolf- whoop  mightily,  and  all  the  men  of  the 
Wolf  that  were  in  the  host,  and  the  Woodlanders  withal,  uttered 
it  with  him.  Then  he  put  his  shield  over  his  head  and  stood  be- 
fore the  first  of  the  steps,  and  the  Dusky  Men  laughed  to  see  one 
man  come  against  them,  though  there  was  death  in  their  hearts. 

But  he  laughed  back  at  them  in  triumph,  and  set  his  foot  on  the 
step,  and  let  Sleep- thorn’s  point  go  into  the  throat  of  a Dusky  lord, 
and  thrust  amongst  them,  hewing  right  and  left,  and  tumbling  men 
over  the  edge  of  the  stair,  which  was  to  them  as  the  narrow  path 
along  the  cliflF-side  that  hangeth  over  the  unfathomed  sea.  They 
hewed  and  thrust  at  him  in  turn ; but  so  close  were  they  packed 
that  their  weapons  crossed  about  him,  and  one  shielded  him  from 
the  other,  and  they  swayed  staggering  on  that  fearful  verge, 
while  the  Sleep-thorn  crept  here  and  there  amongst  them,  lulling 
their  hot  fury.  For,  as  desperate  as  they  were,  and  fighting  for 
death  and  not  for  life,  they  had  a horror  of  him  and  of  the  sea  of 
hatred  below  them,  and  feared  where  to  set  their  feet,  and  he 
feared  nought  at  all,  but  from  feet  to  sword-point  was  but  an 
engine  of  slaughter,  while  the  heart  within  him  throbbed  with  fury 
long  held  back  as  he  thought  upon  the  Bride  and  her  wounding, 
and  all  the  wrongs  of  his  people  since  their  Great  Undoing. 

So  he  smote  and  thrust,  till  him-seemed  the  throng  of  foes 
thinned  before  him  : with  his  sword-pommel  he  smote  a lord  of 
the  Dusky  Ones  in  the  face,  so  that  he  fell  over  the  edge  amongst 
the  spears  of  the  kindred  ; then  he  thrust  the  point  of  Sleep-thorn 
towards  the  Hall-door  through  the  breast  of  another,  and  then  it 
seemed  to  him  that  he  had  but  one  before  him  ; so  he  hove  up  the 
edges  to  cleave  him  down,  but  ere  the  stroke  fell,  close  to  his  ears 
exceeding  loud  rang  out  the  cry,  ‘ For  the  Burg  and  the  Face ! for 
the  Face,  for  the  Face  ! ’ and  he  drew  aback  a little,  and  his  eyes 


The  Mote- 
house  in  evil 
case. 


cleared,  and  lo!  it  was  Hall-face  the  tall,  his  long  sword  all  red- 
dened with  battle;  and  beside  him  stood  Face-of-god,  silent  and 
panting,  his  face  pale  with  the  fierce  anger  of  the  fight,  and  the 
weariness  which  was  now  at  last  gaining  upon  him.  There  stood 
those  three  with  no  other  living  man  upon  the  plain  of  the  stairs. 

Then  Face-of-god  turned  shouting  to  the  Folk,  and  cried  : 

‘ Forth  now  with  the  banners  ! For  now  is  the  Wolf  come 
home.  On  into  the  Hall,  O Kindred  of  the  Gods  ! ’ 

Then  poured  the  Folk  up  over  the  stairs  and  into  the  Hall  of 
the  Wolf,  the  banners  fiapping  over  their  heads  ; and  first  went 
the  War-leader  and  Folk-might  and  Hall-face,  and  then  the 
three  delivered  thralls.  Wolf-stone,  God-swain,  and  Spear-fist,  and 
Dallach  with  them,  though  both  he  and  Wolf-stone  had  been  hurt 
in  the  battle ; and  then  came  blended  together  the  Men  of  the  Face 
along  with  them  of  the  Wolf  who  had  entered  the  Market-stead 
with  them,  and  with  these  were  Stone-face  and  Wood-wont  and 
Bow-may,  leading  the  Sun-beam  betwixt  them  ; and  now  was 
she  come  to  herself  again,  though  her  face  was  yet  pale,  and  her 
eyes  gleamed  as  she  stepped  across  the  threshold  of  the  Hall. 

But  when  a many  were  gotten  in,  and  the  first-comers  had  had 
time  to  handle  their  weapons  and  look  about  them,  a cry  of  the 
utmost  wrath  broke  from  Folk-might  and  those  others  who  re- 
membered the  Hall  from  of  old.  For  wretched  and  befouled  was 
that  well-builded  house  : the  hangings  rent  away ; the  goodly 
painted  walls  daubed  and  smeared  with  wicked  tokens  of  the  Alien 
murderers  : the  floor,  once  bright  with  polished  stones  of  the 
mountain,  and  strewn  with  sweet-smelling  flowers,  was  now  as 
foul  as  the  den  of  the  man-devouring  troll  of  the  heaths.  From 
the  fair-carven  roof  of  oak  and  chestnut-beams  hung  ugly 
knots  of  rags  and  shapeless  images  of  the  sorcery  of  the  Dusky 
Men.  And  furthermore,  and  above  all,  from  the  last  tie-beam  of 
the  roof  over  the  dais  dangled  four  shapes  of  men-at-arms,  whom 
the  older  men  of  the  Wolf  knew  at  once  for  the  embalmed  bodies 
of  their  four  great  chieftains,  who  had  been  slain  on  the  day  of  the 

366 


Great  Undoing;  and  they  cried  out  with  horror  and  rage  as  they 
saw  them  hanging  there  in  their  weapons  as  they  had  lived. 

There  was  the  Hostage  of  the  Earth,  his  shield  painted  with 
the  green  world  circled  with  the  worm  of  the  sea.  There  was 
the  older  Folk-might,  the  uncle  of  the  living  man,  bearing  a shield 
with  an  oak  and  a lion  done  thereon.  There  was  Wealth-eker, 
on  whose  shield  was  done  a golden  sheaf  of  wheat.  There  was 
he  who  bore  a name  great  from  of  old.  Folk-wolf  to  wit,  bearing 
on  his  shield  the  axe  of  the  hewer.  There  they  hung,  dusty,  be- 
fouled, with  sightless  eyes  and  grinning  mouths,  in  the  dimmed 
sunlight  of  the  Hall,  before  the  eyes  of  that  victorious  Host,  stricken 
silent  at  the  sight  of  them. 

Underneath  them  on  the  dais  stood  the  last  remnant  of  the  battle 
of  the  Dusky  Men  ; and  they,  as  men  mad  with  coming  death, 
shook  their  weapons,  and  with  shrieking  laughter  mocked  at  the 
overcomers,  and  pointed  to  the  long-dead  chiefs,  and  called  on 
them  in  the  tongue  of  the  kindreds  to  come  down  and  lead  their 
dear  kinsmen  to  the  high-seat ; and  then  they  cried  out  to  the  living 
warriors  of  the  Wolf,  and  bade  them  better  their  deed  of  slaying, 
and  set  to  work  to  make  alive  again,  and  cause  their  kinsmen  to 
live  merry  on  the  earth. 

With  that  last  mock  they  handled  their  weapons  and  rushed 
howling  on  the  warriors  to  meet  their  death ; nor  was  it  long  denied 
them  ; for  the  sword  of  the  Wolf,  the  axe  of  the  Woodland,  and 
the  spear  of  the  Dale  soon  made  an  end  of  the  dreadful  lives  of 
these  destroyers  of  the  Folks. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII.  MEN  SING  IN  THE  MOTE-HOUSE. 

Then  strode  the  Warriors  of  the  Wolf  over  the  bodies  of 
the  slain  on  to  the  dais  of  their  own  Hall ; and  Folk-might 
led  the  Sun-beam  by  the  hand,  and  now  was  his  sword  in 
its  sheath,  and  his  face  was  grown  calm,  though  it  was  stern  and 

367 


The  end  of 
the  Dusky 
Host. 


Folk-might 
gladdened  by 
good  tidings. 


sad.  But  even  as  he  trod  the  dais  comes  a slim  swain  of  the 
Wolves  twisting  himself  through  the  throng,  and  so  maketh  way 
to  Folk-might,  and  saith  to  him  : 

‘ Chieftain,  the  Alderman  of  Burgdale  sendeth  me  hither  to 
say  a word  to  thee ; even  this,  which  I am  to  tell  to  thee  and 
the  War-leader  both  : It  is  most  true  that  our  kinswoman  the 
Bride  will  not  die,  but  live.  So  help  me,  the  Warrior  and  the 
Face  ! This  is  the  word  of  the  Alderman.’ 

When  Folk-might  heard  this,  his  face  changed  and  he  hung 
his  head ; and  Face-of-god,  who  was  standing  close  by,  beheld 
him  and  deemed  that  tears  were  falling  from  his  eyes  on  to  the 
hall-floor.  As  for  him,  he  grew  exceeding  glad,  and  he  turned 
to  the  Sun-beam  and  met  her  eyes,  and  saw  that  she  could  scarce 
refrain  her  longing  for  him  ; and  he  was  abashed  for  the  sweet- 
ness of  his  love.  But  she  drew  close  up  to  him,  and  spake  to 
him  softly  and  said  ; 

‘ This  is  the  day  that  maketh  amends ; and  yet  I long  for 
another  day.  When  I saw  thee  coming  to  me  that  first  day  in 
Shadowy  Vale,  I thought  thee  so  goodly  a warrior  that  my  heart 
was  in  my  mouth.  But  now  how  goodly  thou  art ! For  the 
battle  is  over,  and  we  shall  live.’ 

^ Yea,’  said  Face-of-god,  ‘ and  none  shall  begrudge  us  our  love. 
Behold  thy  brother,  the  hard-heart,  the  warrior ; he  weepeth 
because  he  hath  heard  that  the  Bride  shall  live.  Be  sure  then 
that  she  shall  not  gainsay  him.  O fair  shall  the  world  be  to- 
morrow ! ’ 

But  she  said  : ‘ O Gold-mane,  I have  no  words.  Is  there  no 
minstrelsy  amongst  us  ? ’ 

Now  by  this  time  were  many  of  the  men  of  the  Wolf  and  the 
Woodlanders  gathered  on  the  dais  of  the  Hall ; and  the  Dales- 
men noting  this,  and  wotting  that  these  men  were  now  in  their 
own  Mote-house,  withdrew  them  as  they  might  for  the  press  to- 
ward the  nether  end  thereof.  That  the  Sun-beam  noted,  and 
that  all  those  about  her  save  the  War-leader  were  of  the  kin- 

368 


dreds  of  the  Wolf  and  the  Woodland,  and,  still  speaking  softly.  Now  they 
she  said  to  Face-of-god  : sing. 

‘ Gold-mane,  meseemeth  I am  now  in  my  wrong  place ; for 
now  the  Wolf  raiseth  up  his  head,  but  I am  departing  from  him. 

Surely  I should  now  be  standing  amongst  my  people  of  the  Face, 
whereto  I am  going  ere  long.’ 

He  said ; ‘ Beloved,  I am  now  become  thy  kindred  and  thine 
home,  and  it  is  meet  for  thee  to  stand  beside  me.’ 

She  cast  her  eyes  adown  and  answered  not ; and  she  fell  a- 
pondering  of  how  sorely  she  had  desired  that  fair  dale,  and  now 
she  would  leave  it,  and  be  content  and  more  than  content. 

But  now  the  kindreds  had  sundered,  they  upon  the  dais  ranked 
themselves  together  there  in  the  House  which  their  fathers  had 
builded;  and  when  they  saw  themselves  so  meetly  ordered,  theii 
hearts  being  full  with  the  sweetness  of  hope  accomplished  and 
the  joy  of  deliverance  from  death,  song  arose  amongst  them,  and 
they  fell  to  singing  together  ; and  this  is  somewhat  of  their 
singing : 


Now  raise  we  the  lay 
Of  the  long-coming  day  ] 

Bright,  white  was  the  sun 
When  we  saw  it  begun  : 

O’er  its  noon  now  we  live; 

It  hath  ceased  not  to  give ; 

It  shall  give,  and  give  more 
From  the  wealth  of  its  store. 

O fair  was  the  yesterday  ! Kindly  and  good 
Was  the  wasteland  our  guester,  and  kind  was  the  wood; 
Though  below  us  for  reaping  lay  under  our  hand 
The  harvest  of  weeping,  the  grief  of  the  land  ; 

Dumb  cowered  the  sorrow,  nought  daring  to  cry 
On  the  help  of  to-morrow,  the  deed  drawing  nigh. 


3B 


369 


They  sing  of 
the  Dale 
enthralled. 


All  increase  throve 
In  the  Dale  of  our  love ; 

There  the  ox  and  the  steed 
Fed  down  the  mead  ; 

The  grapes  hung  high 
’Twixt  earth  and  sky, 

And  the  apples  fell 
Round  the  orchard  well. 

Yet  drear  was  the  land  there,  and  all  was  for  nought; 
None  put  forth  a hand  there  for  what  the  year  wrought, 
And  raised  it  o’erflowing  with  gifts  of  the  earth. 

For  man’s  grief  was  growing  beside  of  the  mirth 
Of  the  springs  and  the  summers  that  wasted  their  wealth 
And  the  birds,  the  new-comers,  made  merry  by  stealth. 

Yet  here  of  old 
Abode  the  bold  ; 

Nor  had  they  wailed 
Though  the  wheat  had  failed, 

And  the  vine  no  more 
Gave  forth  her  store. 

Yea,  they  found  the  waste  good 
For  the  fearless  of  mood. 

Then  to  these,  that  were  dwelling  aloof  from  the  Dale,^ 
Fared  the  wild-wind  a-telling  the  worst  of  the  tale ; 

As  men  bathed  in  the  morning  they  saw  in  the  pool 
The  image  of  scorning,  the  throne  of  the  fool. 

The  picture  was  gleaming  in  helm  and  in  sword. 

And  shone  forth  its  seeming  from  cups  of  the  board. 

Forth  then  they  came 
With  the  battle-flame; 

From  the  Wood  and  the  Waste 
And  the  Dale  did  they  haste  : 

370 


They  sing  of 
their  slain. 


They  saw  the  storm  rise, 

And  with  untroubled  eyes 
The  war-storm  they  met ; 

And  the  rain  ruddy-wet. 

O’er  the  Dale  then  was  litten  the  Candle  of  Day, 
Night-sorrow  was  smitten,  and  gloom  fled  away. 

How  the  grief-shackles  sunder  ! How  many  to  morn 
Shall  awaken  and  wonder  how  gladness  was  born ! 

O wont  unto  sorrow,  how  sweet  unto  you 
Shall  be  pondering  to-morrow  what  deed  is  to  do ! 

Fell  many  a man 
’Neath  the  edges  wan, 

In  the  heat  of  the  play 
That  fashioned  the  day. 

Praise  all  ye  then 
The  death  of  men, 

And  the  gift  of  the  aid 
Of  the  unafraid ! 

O strong  are  the  living  men  mighty  to  save, 

And  good  is  their  giving,  and  gifts  that  we  have ! 

But  the  dead,  they  that  gave  us  once,  never  again  ; 

Long  and  long  shall  they  save  us  sore  trouble  and  pain. 

O Banner  above  us,  O God  of  the  strong. 

Love  them  as  ye  love  us  that  bore  down  our  wrong  ! 

So  they  sang  in  the  Hall;  and  there  was  many  a man  wept, 
as  the  song  ended,  for  those  that  should  never  see  the  good  days 
of  the  Dale,  and  all  the  joy  that  was  to  be ; and  men  swore,  by 
all  that  they  loved,  that  they  would  never  forget  those  that  had 
fallen  in  the  Winning  of  Silver-dale ; and  that  when  each  year  the 
Cups  of  Memory  went  round,  they  should  be  no  mere  names  to 
them,  but  the  very  men  whom  they  had  known  and  loved. 


37^ 


CHAPTER  XLIX.  DALLACH  FARETH  TO  ROSE-DALE  ? 
CROW  TELLETH  OF  HIS  ERRAND  : THE  KINDREDS 
EAT  THEIR  MEAT  IN  SILVER-DALE. 


Dallach 
would  follow 
hard  on  the 
fleers. 


NOW  Dallach,  who  had  gone  away  for  a while,  came 
back  again  into  the  Hall ; and  at  his  back  were  a half 
score  of  men  who  bore  ladders  with  them  : they  were 
stout  men,  clad  in  scanty  and  ragged  raiment,  but  girt  with 
swords  and  bearing  axes,  those  of  them  who  were  not  handling 
the  ladders.  Men  looked  on  them  curiously,  because  they  saw 
them  to  be  of  the  roughest  of  the  thralls.  They  were  sullen 
and  flerce-eyed  to  behold,  and  their  hands  and  bare  arms  were 
flecked  with  blood ; and  it  was  easy  to  see  that  they  had  been 
chasing  the  fleers,  and  making  them  pay  for  their  many  torments 
of  past  days. 

But  when  Face-of-god  beheld  this  he  cried  out : ^ Ho,  Dallach  ! 
is  it  so  that  thou  hast  bethought  thee  to  bring  in  hither  men  to 
fall  to  the  cleansing  of  the  Hall,  and  to  do  away  the  defiling 
of  the  Dusky  Men  ? ’ 

‘Even  so.  War-leader,^  said  Dallach;  ‘also  ye  shall  know 
that  all  battle  is  over  in  Silver-stead ; for  the  thralls  fell  in  num- 
bers not  to  be  endured  on  the  Dusky  Men  who  had  turned  their 
backs  to  us,  and  hindered  them  from  fleeing  north.  But  though 
they  have  slain  many,  they  have  not  slain  all,  and  the  remnant 
hav’^e  fled  by  divers  ways  westaway,  that  they  may  gain  the 
wood  and  the  ways  to  Rose-dale  ; and  the  stoutest  of  the  thralls 
are  at  their  heels,  and  ever  as  they  go  fresh  men  from  the  fields 
join  in  the  chase  with  great  joy.  I have  gathered  together  of 
the  best  of  them  two  hundreds  and  a half  well-armed ; and  if 
thou  wilt  give  me  leave,  I will  get  to  me  yet  more,  and  follow 
hard  on  the  fleers,  and  so  get  me  home  to  Rose-dale  ; for  thither 
will  these  runaways  to  meet  whatso  of  their  kind  may  be  left 
there.  Also  I would  fain  be  there  to  set  some  order  amongst  the 
poor  folk  of  mine  own  people,  whom  this  day’s  work  hath  de- 

372 


livered  from  torment.  And  if  thou  wilt  suffer  a few  men  of  the 
Dalesmen  to  come  along  with  me,  then  shall  all  things  be  better 
done  there.’ 

‘ Luck  go  with  thine  hands!’  said  Face>of-god.  ‘Takewhomso 
thou  wilt  of  the  Burgdalers  that  have  a mind  to  fare  with  thee 
to  the  number  of  five  score;  and  send  word  of  thy  thriving  to 
Folk-might,  the  chieftain  of  the  Dale  ; as  for  us,  meseemeth  that 
we  shall  abide  here  no  long  while.  How  sayest  thou.  Folk- 
might,  shall  Dallach  go  ? ’ 

'rhen  Folk-might,  who  stood  close  beside  him,  looked  up  and 
reddened  somewhat,  as  a man  caught  heedless  when  he  should 
be  heedful;  but  he  looked  kindly  on  Face-of-god,  and  said  : 
‘War-leader,  so  long  as  thou  art  in  the  Dale  which  ye  kindreds 
have  won  back  for  us,  thou  art  the  chieftain,  and  no  other,  and 
I bid  thee  do  as  thou  wilt  in  this  matter,  and  in  all  things ; and 
I hereby  give  command  to  all  my  kindred  to  do  according  to 
thy  will  everywhere  and  always,  as  they  love  me  ; and  indeed  I 
deem  that  thy  will  shall  be  theirs ; since  it  is  only  fools  who 
know  not  their  well-wishers.  How  say  ye,  kinsmen  ? ’ 

Then  those  about  cried  out:  ‘ Hail  to  Face-of-god  ! Hail  to 
the  Dalesmen  ! Hail  to  our  friends  ! ’ 

But  Folk-might  went  up  to  Face-of-god,  and  threw  his  arms 
about  him  and  kissed  him,  and  he  said  therewithal,  so  that  most 
men  heard  him  : 

‘ Herewith  I kiss  not  only  thee,  thou  goodly  and  glorious 
warrior ! but  this  kiss  and  embrace  is  for  all  the  men  of  the  kin- 
dreds of  the  Dale  and  the  Shepherds ; since  I deem  that  never 
have  men  more  valiant  dwelt  upon  the  earth.’ 

Therewith  all  men  shouted  for  joy  of  him,  and  were  exceeding 
glad;  but  Folk-might  spake  apart  to  Face-of-god  and  said: 
‘ Brother,  I suppose  that  thou  wilt  deem  it  good  to  abide  in  this 
Hall  or  anigh  it ; for  hereabouts  now  is  the  heart  of  the  Host. 
But  as  for  me,  I would  have  leave  to  depart  for  a little;  since  I 
have  an  errand,  whereof  thou  mayest  wot.’ 

373 


Folk-might 
would  go  an 
errand. 


Crow  telleth 
of  the  clearing 
of  the  houses. 


Then  Face-of-god  smiled  on  him,  and  said  : ‘ Go,  and  all 
good  go  with  thee;  and  tell  my  father  that  I would  have  tidings, 
since  I may  not  be  there.’  So  he  spake;  yet  in  his  heart  was 
he  glad  that  he  might  not  go  to  behold  the  Bride  lying  sick  and 
sorry.  But  Folk-might  departed  without  more  words;  and  in 
the  door  of  the  Hall  he  met  Crow  the  Shaft-speeder,  who  would 
have  spoken  to  him,  and  given  him  the  tidings;  but  Folk-might 
said  to  him : ‘ Do  thine  errand  to  the  War-leader,  who  is  within 
the  Hall.’  And  so  went  on  his  way. 

Then  came  Crow  up  the  Hall,  and  stood  before  Face-of-god 
and  said : * War-leader,  we  have  done  that  which  was  to  be  done, 
and  have  cleared  all  the  houses  about  the  Market-stead.  More- 
over, by  the  rede  of  Dallach  we  have  set  certain  men  of  the  poor 
folk  of  the  Dale,  who  are  well  looked  to  by  the  others,  to  the 
burying  of  the  slain  felons ; and  they  be  digging  trenches  in 
the  fields  on  the  north  side  of  the  Market-stead,  and  carry  the  car- 
casses thither  as  they  may.  But  the  slain  whom  they  find  of  the 
kindreds  do  they  array  out  yonder  before  this  Hall.  In  all  wise 
are  these  men  tame  and  biddable,  save  that  they  rage  against 
the  Dusky  Men,  though  they  fear  them  yet.  As  for  us,  they 
deem  us  Gods  come  down  from  heaven  to  help  them.  So  much 
for  what  is  good:  now  have  I an  ill  word  to  say;  to  wit,  that  in 
the  houses  whereas  we  have  found  many  thralls  alive,  yet  also 
have  we  found  many  dead;  for  amongst  these  murder-carles 
were  some  of  an  evil  sort,  who,  when  they  saw  that  the  battle 
would  go  against  them,  rushed  into  the  houses  hewing  down  all 
before  them — man,  woman,  and  child  ; so  that  many  of  the  halls 
and  chambers  we  saw  running  blood  like  to  shambles.  To  be 
short : of  them  whom  they  were  going  to  hew  to  the  Gods,  we 
have  found  thirteen  living  and  three  dead,  of  which  latter  is  one 
woman  ; and  of  the  living,  seven  women;  and  allt  hese,  living 
and  dead,  with  the  leaden  shackles  yet  on  them  wherein  they 
should  be  burned.  To  all  these  and  others  whom  we  have 
found,  we  have  done  what  of  service  we  could  in  the  way  of 

374 


victual  and  clothes,  so  that  they  scarce  believe  that  they  are  on 
this  lower  earth.  Moreover,  I have  with  me  two  score  of  them, 
who  are  men  of  some  wits,  and  who  know  of  the  stores  of  victual 
and  other  wares  which  the  felons  had,  and  these  will  fetch  and 
carry  for  you  as  much  as  ye  will.  Is  all  done  rightly,  War-leader  ?’ 

‘ Right  well,’  said  Face*of-god,  ‘ and  we  give  thee  our  thanks 
therefor.  And  now  it  were  well  if  these  thy  folk  were  to  dight 
our  dinner  for  us  in  some  green  field  the  nighest  that  may  be,  and 
thither  shall  all  the  Host  be  bidden  by  sound  of  horn.  Mean- 
time, let  us  void  this  Hall  till  it  be  cleansed  of  the  filth  of  the 
Dusky  Ones;  but  hereafter  shall  we  come  again  to  it,  and  light  a 
fire  on  the  Holy  Hearth,  and  bid  the  Gods  and  the  Fathers  come 
back  and  behold  their  children  sitting  glad  in  the  ancient  Hall.’ 

Then  men  shouted  and  were  exceeding  joyous  ; but  Face-of- 
god  said  once  more : ‘ Bear  ye  a bench  out  into  the  Market- 
place over  against  the  door  of  this  Hall : thereon  will  I sit  with 
other  chieftains  of  the  kindreds,  that  whoso  will  may  have  re- 
course to  us.’ 

So  therewith  all  the  men  of  the  kindreds  made  their  ways  out 
of  the  Hall  and  into  the  Market-stead,  which  was  by  this  time 
much  cleared  of  the  slaughtered  felons ; and  the  bale  for  the 
burnt-offering  was  now  but  smouldering,  and  a thin  column  of  blue 
smoke  was  going  up  wavering  amidst  the  light  airs  of  the  after- 
noon. Men  were  somewhat  silent  now  ; for  they  were  stiff  and 
weary  with  the  morning’s  battle ; and  a many  had  been  hurt 
withal ; and  on  many  there  yet  rested  the  after-grief  of  battle, 
and  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  friends  and  well-wishers. 

For  in  the  battle  had  fallen  one  long  hundred  and  two  of  the 
men  of  the  Host ; and  of  these  were  two  score  and  five  of  the 
kindreds  of  the  Steer,  the  Bull,  and  the  Bridge,  who  had  made 
such  valiant  onslaught  by  the  southern  road.  Of  the  Shepherds 
died  one  score  save  three ; for  though  they  scattered  the  foe  at 
once,  yet  they  fell  on  with  such  headlong  valour,  rather  than 
wisely,  that  many  were  trapped  in  the  throng  of  the  Dusky  Men. 

375 


The  tale  of 
those  who  fell 
in  the  battle. 


The  horns 
blow  to 
dinner. 


Of  the  Woodlanders  were  slain  one  score  and  nine  ; for  hard  had 
been  the  fight  about  them,  and  no  man  of  them  spared  himself 
one  whit.  Of  the  men  of  the  Wolf,  who  were  but  a few,  fell 
sixteen  men,  and  all  save  two  of  these  in  Face-of-god’s  battle. 
Of  the  Burgdale  men  whom  Folk-might  led,  to  wit,  them  of  the 
Face,  the  Vine,  and  the  Sickle,  were  but  seven  men  slain  outright. 
In  this  tale  are  told  all  those  who  died  of  their  hurts  after  the  day 
of  battle.  Therewithal  man}^  others  were  sorely  hurt  who  mended, 
and  went  about  afterwards  hale  and  hearty. 

So  as  the  folk  abode  in  the  Market-place,  somewhat  faint  and 
weary,  they  heard  horns  blow  up  merrily,  and  Crow  the  Shaft- 
speeder  came  forth  and  stood  on  the  mound  of  the  altar,  and  bade 
men  fare  to  dinner,  and  therewith  he  led  the  way,  bearing  in  his 
hand  the  banner  of  the  Golden  Bushel,  of  which  House  he  was  ; 
and  they  followed  him  into  a fair  and  great  mead  on  the  south- 
west of  Silver-stead,  besprinkled  about  with  ancient  trees  of  sweet 
chestnut.  There  they  found  the  boards  spread  for  them  with 
the  best  of  victual  which  the  poor  down-trodden  folk  knew  how 
to  dight  for  them  ; and  especially  was  there  great  plenty  of  good 
wine  of  the  sun-smitten  bents. 

So  they  fell  to  their  meat,  and  the  poor  folk,  both  men  and 
women,  served  them  gladly,  though  they  were  somewhat  afeard 
of  these  fierce  sword-wielders,  the  Gods  who  had  delivered  them. 
The  said  thralls  were  mostly  not  of  those  who  had  fallen  so 
bitterly  on  their  fleeing  masters,  but  were  men  and  women  of  the 
households,  not  so  roughly  treated  as  the  others,  that  is  to  say, 
those  who  had  been  wont  to  toil  under  the  lash  in  the  fields  and 
the  silver-mines,  and  were  as  wild  as  they  durst  be. 

As  for  these  waiting-thralls,  the  men  of  the  kindreds  were  gentle 
and  blithe  with  them,  and  often  as  they  served  them  would  they 
stay  their  hands  (and  especially  if  they  were  women),  and  would 
draw  down  their  heads  to  put  a morsel  in  their  mouths,  or  set  the 
wine-cup  to  their  lips ; and  they  would  stroke  them  and  caress 
them,  and  treat  them  in  all  wise  as  their  dear  friends.  Moreover, 

376 


when  any  man  was  full,  he  would  arise  and  take  hpld  of  one  of  They  make 

the  thralls,  and  set  him  in  his  place,  and  serve  him  with  meat 

and  drink,  and  talk  with  him  kindly,  so  that  the  poor  folk  were 

much  bewildered  with  joy.  And  the  first  that  arose  from  table 

were  the  Sun-beam  and  Bow-may  and  Hall-face,  with  many  of 

the  swains  and  the  women  of  the  Woodlanders;  and  they  went 

from  table  to  table  serving  the  others. 

The  Sun-beam  had  done  off  her  armour,  and  went  about  ex- 
ceeding fair  and  lovely  in  her  kirtle  ; but  Bow-may  yet  bore  her 
hauberk,  for  she  loved  it,  and  indeed  it  was  so  fine  and  well- 
wrought  that  it  was  no  great  burden.  Albeit  she  had  gone  down 
with  the  Sun-beam  and  other  women  to  a fair  stream  thereby, 
and  there  had  they  bathed  and  washed  themselves ; and  Bow- 
may’s  hurts,  which  were  not  great,  had  been  looked  to  and  bound 
up  afresh,  and  she  had  come  to  table  unhelmed,  with  a wreath 
of  wind-flowers  round  her  head. 

There  then  they  feasted  ; and  their  hearts  were  strengthened 
by  the  meat  and  drink ; and  if  sorrow  were  blended  with  their 
joy,  yet  were  they  high-hearted  through  both  joy  and  sorrow,  look- 
ing forward  to  the  good  days  to  be  in  the  Dales  at  the  Roots  of  the 
Mountains,  and  the  love  and  fellowship  of  Folks  and  of  Houses. 

But  as  for  Face-of-god,  he  went  not  to  the  meadow,  but  abode 
sitting  on  the  bench  in  the  Market-place,  where  were  none  else 
now  of  the  kindreds  save  the  appointed  warders.  They  had 
brought  him  a morsel  and  a cup  of  wine,  and  he  had  eaten  and 
drunk ; and  now  he  sat  there  with  Dale-warden  lying  sheathed 
across  his  knees,  and  seeming  to  gaze  on  the  thralls  of  Silver- 
dale  busied  in  carrying  away  the  bodies  of  the  slain  felons,  after 
they  had  stripped  them  of  their  raiment  and  weapons.  Yet  in- 
deed all  this  was  before  his  eyes  as  a picture  which  he  noted 
not.  Rather  he  sat  pondering  many  things  ; wondering  at  his 
being  there  in  Silver-dale  in  the  hour  of  victory;  longing  for  the 
peace  of  Burgdale  and  the  bride-chamber  of  the  Sun-beam.  Then 
went  his  thought  out  toward  his  old  playmate  lying  hurt  in  Silver- 

377  3C 


The  grief  of 
Folk-might. 


dale  ; and  his  heart  was  grieved  because  of  her,  yet  not  for  long, 
though  his  thought  still  dwelt  on  her ; since  he  deemed  that  she 
would  live  and  presently  be  happy — and  happy  thenceforward 
for  many  years.  So  pondered  Face-of-god  in  the  Market-place 
of  Silver-dale. 


CHAPTER  L.  FOLK-MIGHT  SEETH  THE  BRIDE  AND 
SPEAKETH  WITH  HER. 

OW  tells  the  tale  of  Folk-might,  that  he  went  his  ways 


from  the  Hall  to  the  house  where  the  Bride  lay ; and  the 


swain  who  had  brought  the  message  went  along  with  him, 
and  he  was  proud  of  walking  beside  so  mighty  a warrior,  and  he 
talked  to  Folk-might  as  they  went;  and  the  sound  of  his  voice 
was  irksome  to  the  chieftain,  but  he  made  as  though  he  hear- 
kened. Yet  when  they  came  to  the  door  of  the  house,  which  was 
just  out  of  the  Place  on  the  Southern  road  (for  thereby  had  the 
Bride  fallen  to  earth),  he  could  withhold  his  grief  no  longer,  but 
turned  on  the  threshold  and  laid  his  head  on  the  door-jamb,  and 
sobbed  and  wept  till  the  tears  fell  down  like  rain.  And  the  boy 
stood  by  wondering,  and  wishing  that  Folk-might  would  forbear 
weeping,  but  durst  not  speak  to  him. 

In  a while  Folk-might  left  weeping  and  went  in,  and  found  a 
fair  hall  sore  befouled  by  the  felons,  and  in  the  corner  on  a bed 
covered  with  furs  the  wounded  woman ; and  at  first  sight  he 
deemed  her  not  so  pale  as  he  looked  to  see  her,  as  she  lay  with 
her  long  dark-red  hair  strewed  over  the  pillow,  her  head  moving 
about  wearily.  A linen  cloth  was  thrown  over  her  body,  but 
her  arms  lay  out  of  it  before  her.  Beside  her  sat  the  Alderman, 
his  face  sober  enough,  but  not  as  one  in  heavy  sorrow  ; and  anigh 
him  was  another  chair  as  if  someone  had  but  just  got  up  from  it. 
There  was  no  one  else  in  the  hall  save  two  women  of  the  Wood- 
landers,  one  of  whom  was  cooking  some  potion  on  the  hearth,  and 


37« 


another  was  sweeping  the  floor  anigh  of  bran  or  some  such  stuiF,  The  Bride 
which  had  been  thrown  down  to  sop  up  the  blood.  sick  yet 

So  Folk-might  went  up  to  the  Bride,  sorely  dreading  the  image  sorry, 

of  death  which  she  had  grown  to  be,  and  sorely  loving  the  woman 
she  was  and  would  be. 

He  knelt  down  by  the  bedside,  heeding  Iron-face  little,  though 
he  nodded  friendly  to  him,  and  he  held  his  face  close  to  hers ; 
but  she  had  her  eyes  shut  and  did  not  open  them  till  he  had  been 
there  a little  while;  and  then  they  opened  and  fixed  themselves 
on  his  without  surprise  or  change.  Then  she  lifted  her  right  hand 
(for  it  was  in  her  left  shoulder  and  side  that  she  had  been  hurt) 
and  slowly  laid  it  on  his  head,  and  drew  his  face  to  hers  and 
kissed  it  fondly,  as  she  both  smiled  and  let  the  tears  run  over 
from  her  eyes.  Then  she  spake  in  a weak  voice  : 

‘ Thou  seest,  chieftain  and  dear  friend,  that  1 may  not  stand 
by  thy  victorious  side  to-day.  And  now,  though  I were  fain  if 
thou  wouldst  never  leave  me,  yet  needs  must  thou  go  about  thy 
work,  since  thou  art  become  the  Alderman  of  the  Folk  of  Silver- 
dale.  Yea,  and  even  if  thou  wert  not  to  go  from  me,  yet  in  a 
manner  should  I go  from  thee.  For  I am  grievously  hurt,  and  I 
know  by  myself,  and  also  the  leeches  have  told  me,  that  the  fever 
is  a-coming  on  me  ; so  that  presently  I shall  not  know  thee,  but 
may  deem  thee  to  be  a woman,  or  a hound,  or  the  very  Wolf  that 
is  the  image  of  the  Father  of  thy  kindred;  or  even,  it  may  be, 
someone  else — that  I have  played  with  time  agone.  ’ 

Her  voice  faltered  and  faded  out  here,  and  she  was  silent  a 
while  ; then  she  said  : 

‘ So  depart,  kind  friend  and  dear  love,  bearing  this  word  with 
thee,  that  should  I die,  I call  on  Iron-face  my  kinsman  to  bear 
witness  that  I bid  thee  carry  me  to  bale  in  Silver-dale,  and  lay 
mine  ashes  with  the  ashes  of  thy  Fathers,  with  whom  thine  own 
shall  mingle  at  the  last,  since  I have  been  of  the  warriors  who 
have  helped  to  bring  thee  aback  to  the  land  of  thy  folk.’ 

Then  she  smiled  and  shut  her  eyes  and  said  : ‘ And  if  I live, 

379 


They  plight  as  indeed  I hope,  and  how  glad  and  glad  I shall  be  to  live,  then 
troth  shalt  thou  bring  me  to  thy  house  and  thy  bed,  that  I may  not 

together.  depart  from  thee  while  both  our  lives  last/ 

And  she  opened  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him  ; and  he  might 
not  speak  for  a while,  so  ravished  as  he  was  betwixt  joy  and 
sorrow.  But  the  Alderman  arose  and  took  a gold  ring  from  off 
his  arm,  and  spake  : 

‘ This  is  the  gold  ring  of  the  God  of  the  Face,  and  I bear  it 
on  mine  arm  betwixt  the  Folk  and  the  God  in  all  man-motes, 
and  I bore  it  through  the  battle  to-day ; and  it  is  as  holy  a ring 
as  may  be  ; and  since  ye  are  plighting  troth,  and  I am  the  wit- 
ness thereof,  it  were  good  that  ye  held  this  ring  together  and  called 
the  God  to  witness,  who  is  akin  to  the  God  of  the  Earth,  as  we  all 
be.  T ake  the  ring,  F oik-  might,  for  I trust  thee ; and  of  all  women 
now  alive  would  I have  this  woman  happy.’ 

So  Folk-might  took  the  ring  and  thrust  his  hand  through  it, 
and  took  her  hand,  and  said  ; 

* Ye  Fathers,  thou  God  of  the  Face,  thou  Earth-god,  thou 
Warrior,  bear  witness  that  my  life  and  my  body  are  plighted  to 
this  woman,  the  Bride  of  the  House  of  the  Steer  ! ’ 

His  face  was  flushed  and  bright  as  he  spoke,  but  as  his  words 
ceased  he  noted  how  feebly  her  hand  lay  in  his,  and  his  face  fell, 
and  he  gazed  on  her  timidly.  But  she  lay  quiet,  and  said  softly 
and  slowly  : 

‘ O Fathers  of  my  kindred!  O Warrior  and  God  of  the  Earth  ! 
bear  witness  that  I plight  my  troth  to  this  man,  to  lie  in  his  grave 
if  I die,  and  in  his  bed  if  I live.’ 

And  she  smiled  on  him  again,  and  then  closed  her  eyes  ; but 
opened  them  presently  once  more,  and  said  : 

‘ Dear  friend,  how  fared  it  with  Gold-mane  to-day  ? ’ 

Said  Folk-might : ‘So  well  he  did,  that  none  might  have  done 
better.  He  fared  in  the  fight  as  if  he  had  been  our  Father  the 
Warrior  : he  is  a great  chieftain.’ 

She  said  : ‘ Wilt  thou  give  him  this  message  from  me,  that  in 

380 


no  wise  he  forget  the  oath  which  he  swore  upon  the  finger-ring  as  Folk-might 
it  lay  on  the  sundial  of  the  Garden  of  the  Face?  And  say,  more-  ieaveth  her. 
over,  that  I am  sorry  that  we  shall  part,  and  have  between  us  such 
breadth  of  wild- wood  and  mountain-neck.’ 

^ Yea,  surely  will  I give  thy  message,’  said  Folk-might;  and 
in  his  heart  he  rejoiced,  because  he  heard  her  speak  as  if  she 
were  sure  of  life.  Then  she  said  faintly  : 

‘ It  is  now  thy  work  to  depart  from  me,  and  to  do  as  it  behoveth 
a chieftain  of  the  people  and  the  Alderman  of  Silver-dale.  De- 
part, lest  the  leeches  chide  me  : farewell,  my  dear  ! ’ 

So  he  laid  his  face  to  hers  and  kissed  her,  and  rose  up  and  em- 
braced Iron-face,  and  went  his  ways  without  looking  back. 

But  just  over  the  threshold  he  met  old  Hall-ward  of  the  House 
of  the  Steer,  who  was  at  point  to  enter,  and  he  greeted  him  kindly. 

The  old  man  looked  on  him  steadily,  and  said  : ‘ To-morrow  or 
the  day  after  I will  utter  a word  to  thee,  O Chief  of  the  Wolf’ 

‘ In  a good  hour,’  said  Folk-might,  Tor  all  thy  words  are  true.’ 

Therewith  he  gat  him  away  from  the  house,  and  came  to  Face- 
of-god,  where  he  sat  before  the  altar  of  the  Crooked  Sword  ; 
and  now  were  the  chiefs  come  back  from  their  meat,  and  were 
sitting  with  him ; there  also  were  Wood-father  and  Wood- wont ; 
but  Bow-may  was  with  the  Sun-beam,  who  was  resting  softly  in 
the  fair  meadow  after  all  the  turmoil. 

So  men  made  place  for  Folk-might  beside  the  War-leader,  who 
looked  upon  his  face,  and  saw  that  it  was  sober  and  unsmiling, 
but  not  heavy  or  moody  with  grief.  So  he  deemed  that  all  was 
as  well  as  it  might  be  with  the  Bride,  and  with  a good  heart  fell 
to  taking  counsel  with  the  others  ; and  kindly  and  friendly  were 
the  redes  which  they  held  there,  with  no  gainsaying  of  man  by 
man,  for  the  whole  folk  was  glad  at  heart. 

So  there  they  ordered  all  matters  duly  for  that  present  time, 
and  by  then  they  had  made  an  end,  it  was  past  sunset,  and  men 
were  lodged  in  the  chief  houses  about  the  Market-stead. 

Albeit,  though  they  ate  their  meat  with  all  joy  of  heart,  and 

381 


The  burial  of  were  merry  in  converse  one  with  the  other,  the  men  of  the  Wolf 
the  dead.  would  by  no  means  feast  in  their  Hall  again  till  it  had  been  cleansed 
and  hallowed  anew. 


CHAPTER  LI.  THE  DEAD  BORNE  TO  BALE  : THE 

MOTE-HOUSE  RE-HALLOWED. 

ON  the  morrow  they  bore  to  bale  their  slain  men,  and  there- 
withal what  was  left  of  the  bodies  of  the  four  chieftains  of 
the  Great  Undoing.  They  brought  them  into  a most  fair 
meadow  to  the  west  of  Silver-stead,  where  they  had  piled  up  a 
very  great  bale  for  the  burning.  In  that  meadow  was  the  Doom- 
ring and  Thing-stead  of  the  Folk  of  the  Wolf,  and  they  had  hal- 
lowed it  when  they  had  first  conquered  Silver-dale,  and  it  was 
deemed  far  holier  than  the  Mote-house  aforesaid,  wherein  the 
men  of  the  kindred  might  hold  no  due  court ; but  rather  it  was 
a Feast-hall,  and  a house  where  men  had  converse  together, 
and  wherein  precious  things  and  tokens  of  the  Fathers  were 
stored  up. 

The  Thing-stead  in  the  meadow  was  flowery  and  well-grassed, 
and  a little  stream  winding  about  thereby  nearly  cast  a ring  around 
it ; and  beyond  the  stream  was  a full  fair  grove  of  oak-trees, 
very  tall  and  ancient.  There  then  they  burned  the  dead  of  the 
Host,  wrapped  about  in  exceeding  fair  raiment.  And  when  the 
ashes  were  gathered,  the  men  of  Burgdale  and  the  Shepherds  left 
those  of  their  folk  for  the  kindred  to  bury  there  in  Silver-dale  ; 
for  they  said  that  they  had  a right  to  claim  such  guesting  for  them 
that  had  helped  to  win  back  the  Dale. 

But  when  the  Burning  was  done  and  the  bale  quenched,  and  the 
ashes  gathered  and  buried  (and  that  was  on  the  morrow),  then 
men  bore  forth  the  Banners  of  the  Jaws  of  the  Wolf,  and  the  Red 
Hand,  and  the  Silver  Arm,  and  the  Golden  Bushel,  and  the  Ragged 
Sword,  and  the  Wolf  of  the  Woodland ; and  with  great  joy  and 


triumph  they  brought  them  into  the  Mote-house  and  hung  them  The  song  of 
up  over  the  dais ; and  they  kindled  fire  on  the  Holy  Hearth  by  hold-  returning, 
ing  up  a disk  of  bright  glass  to  the  sun  ; and  then  they  sang  be- 
fore the  banners.  And  this  is  somewhat  of  the  song  that  thej 
sang  before  them  : 

Why  are  ye  wending  ? O whence  and  whither  ? 

What  shineth  over  the  fallow  swords  ? 

What  is  the  Joy  that  ye  bear  in  hither  ? 

What  is  the  tale  of  your  blended  words  ? 

No  whither  we  wend,  but  here  have  we  stayed  us, 

Here  by  the  ancient  Holy  Hearth  ; 

Long  have  the  moons  and  the  years  delayed  us. 

But  here  are  we  come  from  the  heart  of  the  dearth. 

We  are  the  men  of  joy  belated ; 

We  are  the  wanderers  over  the  waste  ; 

We  are  but  they  that  sat  and  waited, 

Watching  the  empty  winds  make  haste. 

Long,  long  we  sat  and  knew  no  others, 

Save  alien  folk  and  the  foes  of  the  road ; 

Till  late  and  at  last  we  met  our  brothers, 

And  needs  must  we  to  the  old  abode. 

For  once  on  a day  they  prayed  for  guesting  ; 

And  how  were  we  then  their  bede  to  do  ? 

Wild  was  the  waste  for  the  people’s  resting. 

And  deep  the  wealth  of  the  Dale  we  knew. 

Here  were  the  boards  that  we  must  spread  them 
Down  in  the  fruitful  Dale  and  dear ; 

Here  were  the  halls  where  we  would  bed  them  : 

And  how  should  we  tarry  otherwhere  ? 

383 


Over  the  waste  we  came  together : 

There  was  the  tangle  athwart  the  way ; 

There  was  the  wind-storm  and  the  weather ; 

The  red  rain  darkened  down  the  day. 

But  that  day  of  the  days  what  grief  should  let  us, 
When  we  saw  through  the  clouds  the  dale-glad  sun  ? 
We  tore  at  the  tangle  that  beset  us, 

And  stood  at  peace  when  the  day  was  done. 

Hall  of  the  Happy,  take  our  greeting  ! 

Bid  thou  the  Fathers  come  and  see 
The  Folk-signs  on  thy  walls  a-meeting, 

And  deem  to-day  what  men  we  be. 

Look  on  the  Holy  Hearth  new-litten. 

How  the  sparks  fly  twinkling  up  aloof! 

How  the  wavering  smoke  by  the  sunlight  smitten, 

Curls  up  around  the  beam-rich  roof! 

For  here  once  more  is  the  Wolf  abiding, 

Nor  ever  more  from  the  Dale  shall  wend. 

And  never  again  his  head  be  hiding, 

Till  all  days  be  dark  and  the  world  have  end. 


Men  merry  in 
Silver-dale. 


CHAPTER  LII.  OF  THE  NEW  BEGINNING  OF  GOOD 
DAYS  IN  SILVER-DALE. 

ON  the  third  day  there  was  high-tide  and  great  joy  amongst 
all  men  from  end  to  end  of  the  Dale ; and  the  delivered 
thralls  were  feasted  and  made  much  of  by  the  kindreds, 
so  that  they  scarce  knew  how  to  believe  their  own  five  senses  that 
told  them  the  good  tidings. 

For  none  strove  to  grieve  them  and  torment  them ; what  they 

3^ 


would,  that  did  they,  and  they  had  all  things  plenteously ; since 
for  all  was  there  enough  and  to  spare  of  goods  stored  up  for  the 
Dusky  Men,  as  corn  and  wine  and  oil  and  spices,  and  raiment 
and  silver.  Horses  were  there  also,  and  neat  and  sheep  and 
swine  in  abundance.  Withal  there  was  the  good  and  dear  land  ; 
the  waxing  corn  on  the  acres ; the  blossoming  vines  on  the  hill- 
side ; and  about  the  orchards  and  alongside  the  ways,  the  plum- 
trees  and  cherry-trees  and  pear-trees  that  had  cast  their  blossom 
and  were  overhung  with  little  young  fruit ; and  the  fair  apple-trees 
a-blossoming,  and  the  chestnuts  spreading  their  boughs  from  their 
twisted  trunks  over  the  green  grass.  And  there  was  the  goodly 
pasture  for  the  horses  and  the  neat,  and  the  th3^my  hill-grass  for 
the  sheep  ; and  beyond  it  all,  the  thicket  of  the  great  wood,  with 
its  unfailing  store  of  goodly  timber  of  ash  and  oak  and  holly  and 
yoke-elm.  There  need  no  man  lack  unless  man  compelled  him, 
and  all  was  rich  enough  and  wide  enough  for  the  waxing  of  a 
very  great  folk. 

Now,  therefore,  men  betook  them  to  what  was  their  own 
before  the  coming  of  the  Dusky  Men  ; and  though  at  first  many 
of  the  delivered  thrall-folk  feasted  somewhat  above  measure,  and 
though  there  were  some  of  them  who  were  not  very  brisk  at 
working  on  the  earth  for  their  livelihood;  yet  were  the  most 
part  of  them  quick  of  wit  and  deft  of  hand,  and  they  mostly  fell 
to  presently  at  their  cunning,  both  of  husbandry  and  handicraft. 
Moreover,  they  had  great  love  of  the  kindreds,  and  especially  of 
the  Woodlanders,  and  strove  to  do  all  things  that  might  plea- 
sure them.  And  as  for  those  who  were  dull  and  listless  because 
of  their  many  torments  of  the  last  ten  years,  they  would  at  least 
fetch  and  carry  willingly  for  them  of  the  kindreds  ; and  these 
last  grudged  them  not  meat  and  raiment  and  house-room,  even 
if  they  wrought  but  little  for  it,  because  they  called  to  mind  the 
evil  days  of  their  thralldom,  and  bethought  them  how  few  are 
men’s  days  upon  the  earth. 

Thus  all  things  throve  in  Silver-dale,  and  the  days  wore  on 

385  3 D 


The  wealth 
of  Silver-dale, 


Hall-ward 
cometh  to 
Folk-might. 


toward  the  summer,  and  the  Yule-tide  rest  beyond  it,  and  the 
years  beyond  and  far  beyond  the  winning  of  Silver-dale. 


CHAPTER  LIII.  OF  THE  WORD  WHICH  HALL-WARD 
OF  THE  STEER  HAD  FOR  FOLK-MIGHT. 

But  of  the  time  then  passing,  it  is  to  be  said  that  the  whole 
host  abode  in  Silver-dale  in  great  mirth  and  good  liking, 
till  they  should  hear  tidings  of  Dallach  and  his  company, 
who  had  followed  hot-foot  on  the  fleers  of  the  Dusky  Men.  And 
on  the  tenth  day  after  the  battle.  Iron-face  and  his  tw’o  sons  and 
Stone-face  were  sitting  about  sunset  under  a great  oak-tree  by 
that  stream-side  which  ran  through  the  Mote-stead ; there  also 
was  Folk-might,  somewhat  distraught  because  of  his  love  for 
the  Bride,  who  was  now  mending  of  her  hurts.  As  they  sat 
there  in  all  content  they  saw  folk  coming  toward  them,  three  in 
number,  and  as  they  drew  nigher  they  saw  that  it  was  old  Hall- 
ward  of  the  Steer,  and  the  Sun-beam  and  Bow-may  following 
him  hand  in  hand. 

When  they  came  to  the  brook  Bow-may  ran  up  to  the  elder 
to  help  him  over  the  stepping-stones ; which  she  did  as  one  who 
loved  him,  as  the  old  man  was  stark  enough  to  have  waded  the 
water  waist-deep.  She  was  no  longer  in  her  war-gear,  but  was 
clad  after  her  wont  of  Shadowy  Vale,  in  nought  but  a white 
woollen  kirtle.  So  she  stood  in  the  stream  beside  the  stones, 
and  let  the  swift  water  ripple  up  over  her  ankles,  while  the  elder 
leaned  on  her  shoulder  and  looked  down  upon  her  kindly.  The 
Sun-beam  followed  after  them,  stepping  daintily  from  stone  to 
stone,  so  that  she  was  a fair  sight  to  see ; her  face  was  smiling 
and  happy,  and  as  she  stepped  forth  on  to  the  green  grass  the 
colour  flushed  up  in  it,  but  she  cast  her  eyes  adown  as  one  some- 
what shamefaced. 

So  the  chieftains  rose  up  before  the  leader  of  the  Steer,  and 

386 


Folk-might  went  up  to  him,  and  greeted  him,  and  took  his  hand  They  talk  of 
and  kissed  him  on  the  cheek.  And  Hall-ward  said ; the  Bride. 

‘ Hail  to  the  chiefs  of  the  kindred,  and  my  earthly  friends  ! ’ 

Then  Folk-might  bade  him  sit  down  by  him,  and  all  the  men 
sat  down  again;  but  the  Sun-beam  leaned  her  back  against  a 
sapling  ash  hard  by,  her  feet  set  close  together ; and  Bow-may 
went  to  and  fro  in  short  turns,  keeping  well  within  ear-shot. 

Then  said  Hall-ward  : ^ Folk-might,  I have  prayed  thy  kins- 
woman Bow-may  to  lead  me  to  thee,  that  I might  speak  with 
thee ; and  it  is  good  that  I find  my  kinsmen  of  the  Face  in  thy 
company ; for  I would  say  a word  to  thee  that  concerns  them 
somewhat.’ 

Said  Folk-might : ‘ Guest,  and  warrior  of  the  Steer,  thy 
words  are  ever  good  ; and  if  this  time  thou  comest  to  ask  aught 
of  me,  then  shall  they  be  better  than  good.’ 

Said  Hall- ward:  ^ Tell  me.  Folk-might,  hast  thou  seen  my 
daughter  the  Bride  to-day  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,’  said  Folk-might,  reddening. 

‘ What  didst  thou  deem  of  her  state  ? ’ said  Hall-ward. 

Said  Folk-might : ‘ Thou  knowest  thyself  that  the  fever  hath 
left  her,  and  that  she  is  mending.’ 

Hall-ward  said  : ‘ In  a few  days  belike  we  shall  be  wending 
home  to  Burgdale  : when  deemest  thou  that  the  Bride  may  travel, 
if  it  were  but  on  a litter  ? ’ 

Folk-might  was  silent,  and  Hall-ward  smiled  on  him  and  said ; 

‘ Wouldst  thou  have  her  tarry,  O chief  of  the  Wolf?’ 

‘So  it  is,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘that  it  might  be  labour  lost  for 
her  to  Journey  to  Burgdale  at  present.’ 

‘ Thinkest  thou?’  said  Hall-ward;  ‘hast thou  a mind  then  that 
if  she  goeth  she  shall  speedily  come  back  hither  ? ’ 

‘ It  has  been  in  my  mind,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘ that  I should  wed 
her.  Wilt  thou  gainsay  it?  I pray  thee.  Iron-face  my  friend,  and 
ye  Stone-face  and  Hall-face,  and  thou,  Face-of-god,  my  brother, 
to  lay  thy  words  to  mine  in  this  matter.’ 

387 


Hall-ward 
asketh  a price 
for  the  Bride. 


Then  said  Hall-ward  stroking  his  beard : ‘ There  will  be  a 
seat  missing  in  the  Hall  of  the  Steer,  and  a sore  lack  in  the 
heart  of  many  a man  in  Burgdale  if  the  Bride  come  back  to  us^ 
no  more.  We  looked  not  to  lose  the  maiden  by  her  wedding ; 
for  it  is  no  long  way  betwixt  the  House  of  the  Steer  and  the 
House  of  the  Face.  But  now,  when  I arise  in  the  morning  and 
miss  her,  I shall  take  my  staff  and  walk  down  the  street  of  Burg- 
stead  ; for  I shall  say,  The  Maiden  hath  gone  to  see  Iron-face 
my  friend ; she  is  well  in  the  House  of  the  Face.  And  then  shall 
I remember  how  that  the  wood  and  the  wastes  lie  between  us. 
How  sayest  thou,  Alderman  ? ’ 

‘ A sore  lack  it  will  be,’  said  Iron-face;  ‘but  all  good  go  with 
her ! Though  whiles  shall  I go  hatless  down  Burgstead  street, 
and  say,  Now  will  I go  fetch  my  daughter  the  Bride  from  the 
House  of  the  Steer;  while  many  a day’s  journey  shall  lie  be- 
twixt us.’ 

Said  Hall-ward  : ‘ I will  not  beat  about  the  bush,  Folk-might; 
what  gift  wilt  thou  give  us  for  the  maiden  ? ’ 

Said  Folk-might:  ‘Whatever  is  mine  shall  be  thine;  and 
whatsoever  of  the  Dale  the  kindred  and  the  poor  folk  begrudge 
thee  not,  that  shalt  thou  have ; and  deemest  thou  that  they  will 
begrudge  thee  aught  ? Is  it  enough  ? ’ 

Hall-ward  said  : ‘ I wot  not,  chieftain  ; see  thou  to  it ! Bow- 
may,  my  friend,  bring  hither  that  which  I would  have  from 
Silver-dale  for  the  House  of  the  Steer  in  payment  for  our 
maiden.’ 

Then  Bow-may  came  forward  speedily,  and  went  up  to  the 
Sun-beam,  and  led  her  by  the  hand  in  front  of  Folk-might  and 
Hall-ward  and  the  other  chieftains.  Then  Folk-might  started, 
and  leapt  up  from  the  ground  ; for,  sooth  to  say,  he  had  been 
thinking  so  wholly  of  the  Bride,  that  his  sister  was  not  in  his 
mind,  and  he  had  had  no  deeming  of  whither  Hall-ward  was 
coming,  though  the  others  guessed  well  enough,  and  now  smiled 
on  him  merrily,  when  they  saw  how  wild  Folk-might  stared* 


As  for  the  Sun-beam,  she  stood  there  blushing  like  a rose  in  The  price  of 
June,  but  looking  her  brother  straight  in  the  face,  as  Hall-  the  Bride, 
ward  said  : 

‘ Folk-might,  chief  of  the  Wolf,  since  thou  wouldst  take  our 
maiden  the  Bride  away  from  us,  I ask  thee  to  make  good  her 
place  with  this  maiden  ; so  that  the  House  of  the  Steer  may  not 
lack,  when  they  who  are  wont  to  wed  therein  come  to  us  and  pray 
us  for  a bedfellow  for  the  best  of  their  kindred.’ 

Then  became  Folk-might  smiling  and  merry  like  unto  the 
others,  and  he  said  : * Chief  of  the  Steer,  this  gift  is  thine,  together 
with  aught  else  which  thou  mayst  desire  of  us.’ 

Then  he  kissed  the  Sun-beam,  and  said  : ‘ Sister,  we  looked 
for  this  to  befall  in  some  fashion.  Yet  we  deemed  that  he  that 
should  lead  thee  away  might  abide  with  us  for  a moon  or  two. 

But  now  let  all  this  be,  since  if  thou  art  not  to  bear  children  to 
the  kindreds  of  Silver-dale,  yet  shalt  thou  bear  them  to  their 
friends  and  fellows.  And  now  choose  what  gift  thou  wilt  have 
of  us  to  keep  us  in  thy  memory.’ 

She  said : ‘ The  memory  of  my  people  shall  not  fade  from  me ; 
yet  indeed  I ask  thee  for  a gift,  to  wit.  Bow-may,  and  the  two 
sons  of  Wood-father  that  are  left  since  Wood-wicked  was  slain  ; 
and  belike  the  elder  and  his  wife  will  be  fain  to  go  with  their 
sons,  and  ye  will  not  hinder  them.’ 

^ Even  so  shall  it  be  done,’  said  Folk-might,  and  he  was  silent 
a while,  pondering ; and  then  he  said  : 

‘ Lo  you,  friends ! doth  it  not  seem  strange  to  you  that  peace 
sundereth  as  well  as  war  ? Indeed  I deem  it  grievous  that  ye 
shall  have  to  miss  your  well-beloved  kinswoman.  And  for  me, 

I am  now  grown  so  used  to  this  woman  my  sister,  though  at  whiles 
she  hath  been  masterful  with  me,  that  I shall  often  turn  about  and 
think  to  speak  to  her,  when  there  lie  long  days  of  wood  and  waste 
betwixt  her  voice  and  mine.’ 

The  Sun-beam  laughed  in  his  face,  though  the  tears  stood  in 
her  eyes,  as  she  said  ; ‘ Keep  up  thine  heart,  brother;  for  at  least 

389 


The  Sun- 
beam taken 
into  the 
House  of 
the  Steer. 


the  way  is  shorter  betwixt  Burgdale  and  Silver-dale  than  betwixt 
life  and  death  ; and  the  road  we  shall  learn  belike,’ 

Said  Hall-face  : ‘ So  it  is  that  my  brother  is  no  ill  woodman, 
as  ye  learned  last  autumn.’ 

Iron-face  smiled,  but  somewhat  sadly;  for  he  beheld  Face-of- 
god,  who  had  no  eyes  for  anyone  save  the  Sun-beam ; and  no 
marvel  was  that,  for  never  had  she  looked  fairer.  And  for- 
sooth the  War-leader  was  not  utterly  well-pleased  ; for  he  was 
deeming  that  there  would  be  delaying  of  his  wedding,  now  that 
the  Sun-beam  was  to  become  a maid  of  the  Steer ; and  in  his 
mind  he  half  deemed  that  it  would  be  better  if  he  were  to  take 
her  by  the  hand  and  lead  her  home  through  the  wild-wood,  he 
and  she  alone  ; and  she  looked  on  him  shyly,  as  though  she  had 
a deeming  of  his  thought.  Albeit  he  knew  it  might  not  be,  that 
he,  the  chosen  War-leader,  should  trouble  the  peace  of  the  kin- 
dred ; for  he  wotted  that  all  this  was  done  for  peace’  sake. 

So  Hall-ward  stood  forth  and  took  the  Sun-beam’s  right  hand 
in  his,  and  said  : 

‘ Now  do  I take  this  maiden.  Sun-beam  of  the  kindred  of  the 
Wolf,  and  lead  her  into  the  House  of  the  Steer,  to  be  in  all  ways 
one  of  the  maidens  of  our  House,  and  to  wed  in  the  blood  wherein 
we  have  been  wont  to  wed.  Neither  from  henceforth  let  anyone 
say  that  this  woman  is  not  of  the  blood  of  the  Steer  ; for  we  have 
given  her  our  blood,  and  she  is  of  us  duly  and  truly.’ 

Thereafter  they  talked  together  merrily  for  a little,  and  then 
turned  toward  the  houses,  for  the  sun  was  now  down ; and  as 
they  went  Iron-face  spake  to  his  son,  and  said  : 

‘ Gold-mane,  wilt  thou  verily  keep  thine  oath  to  wed  the  fairest 
woman  in  the  world  ? By  how  much  is  this  one  fairer  than  my 
dear  daughter  who  shall  no  more  dwell  in  mine  house  ? ’ 

Said  Face-of-god  : ‘Yea,  father,  I shall  keep  mine  oath  ; for 
the  Gods,  who  know  much,  know  that  when  I swore  last  Yule 
I was  thinking  of  the  fair  woman  going  yonder  beside  Hall-ward, 
and  of  none  other.’ 


390 


‘ Ah,  son ! ’ said  Iron-face,  ‘ why  didst  thou  beguile  us  ? Hadst 
thou  but  told  us  the  truth  then  ! ’ 

‘Yea,  Alderman,’  said  Face-of-god  smiling,  ‘and  how  thou 
wouldest  have  raged  against  me  then,  when  thou  hast  scarce 
forgiven  me  now ! In  sooth,  father,  I feared  to  tell  you  all ; I 
was  young;  I was  one  against  the  world.  Yea,  yea ; and  even 
that  was  sweet  to  me,  so  sorely  as  I loved  her — Hast  thou  for- 
gotten, father  ? ’ 

Iron-face  smiled,  and  answered  not ; and  so  came  they  to  the 
house  wherein  they  were  guested. 


CHAPTER  LIV.  TIDINGS  OF  DALLACH  : A FOLK-MOTE 
IN  SILVER-DALE. 

Three  days  thereafter  came  two  swift  runners  from  Rose- 
dale  with  tidings  of  Dallach.  In  all  wise  had  he  thriven, 
and  had  slain  many  of  the  runaways,  and  had  come  hap- 
pily to  Rose-dale  : therein  by  the  mere  shaking  of  their  swords 
had  they  all  their  will ; for  there  were  but  a few  of  the  Dusky 
Warriors  in  the  Dale,  since  the  more  part  had  fared  to  the 
slaughter  in  Silver-stead.  Now  therefore  had  Dallach  been 
made  Alderman  of  Rose-dale  ; and  the  Burgdalers  who  had  gone 
with  him  should  abide  the  coming  thither  of  the  rest  of  the  Burg- 
dale  Host,  and  meantime  of  their  coming  should  uphold  the  new 
Alderman  in  Rose-dale.  Howbeit  Dallach  sent  word  that  it  was 
not  to  be  doubted  but  that  many  of  the  Dusky  Men  had  escaped 
to  the  woods,  and  should  yet  be  the  death  of  many  a mother’s 
son,  unless  it  were  well  looked  to. 

And  now  the  more  part  of  the  Burgdale  men  and  the  Shep- 
herds began  to  look  toward  home,  albeit  some  amongst  them 
had  not  been  ill-pleased  to  abide  there  yet  a while  ; for  life  was 
exceeding  soft  to  them  there,  though  they  helped  the  poor  folk 
gladly  in  their  husbandry.  For  especially  the  women  of  the  Dale, 

391 


Dallach 
Alderman 
in  Rose-dale. 


of  the  Wood- 
landers. 


of  whom  many  were  very  goodly,  hankered  after  the  fair-faced 
tall  Burgdalers,  and  were  as  kind  to  them  as  might  be.  For- 
sooth not  a few,  both  carles  and  queens,  of  the  old  thrall-folk 
prayed  them  of  Burgdale  to  take  them  home  thither,  that  they 
might  see  new  things  and  forget  their  old  torments  once  for  all, 
yea,  even  in  dreams.  The  Burgdalers  would  not  gainsay  them, 
and  there  was  no  one  else  to  hinder  ; so  that  there  went  with  the 
Burgdale  men  at  their  departure  hard  on  five  score  of  the  Silver- 
dale  folk  who  were  not  of  the  kindreds. 

And  now  was  a great  Folk-mote  holden  in  Silver-dale,  whereto 
the  Burgdale  men  and  the  Shepherds  were  bidden ; and  thereat 
the  War-leader  gave  out  the  morrow  of  the  morrow  for  the  day 
of  the  departure  of  the  Host.  There  also  were  the  matters  of 
Silver-dale  duly  ordered  : the  Men  of  the  Wolf  would  have  had 
the  Woodlanders  dwell  with  them  in  the  fair-builded  stead,  and 
take  to  them  of  the  goodly  stone  houses  there  what  they  would ; 
but  this  they  naysaid,  choosing  rather  to  dwell  in  scattered 
houses,  which  they  built  for  themselves  at  the  utmost  limit  of 
the  tillage. 

Indeed,  the  most  abode  not  even  there  a long  while  ; for  they 
loved  the  wood  and  its  deeds.  So  they  went  forth  into  the  wood, 
and  cleared  them  space  to  dwell  in,  and  builded  them  halls  such 
as  they  loved,  and  fell  to  their  old  woodland  crafts  of  charcoal- 
burning and  hunting,  wherein  they  throve  well.  And  good  for 
Silver-dale  was  their  abiding  there,  since  they  became  a sure  de- 
fence and  stout  outpost  against  all  foemen.  For  the  rest,  where- 
soever they  dwelt,  they  were  guest-cherishing  and  blithe,  and 
were  well  beloved  by  all  people  ; and  they  wedded  with  the  other 
Houses  of  the  Children  of  the  Wolf. 

As  to  the  other  matters  whereof  they  took  rede  at  this  Folk- 
mote,  they  had  mostly  to  do  with  the  warding  of  the  Dale,  and  the 
learning  of  the  delivered  thralls  to  handle  weapons  duly.  For  men 
deemed  it  most  like  that  they  would  have  to  meet  other  men  of  the 
kindred  of  the  Felons  ; which  indeed  fell  out  as  the  years  wore. 

392 


Moreover,  Folk-might  (by  the  rede  of  Stone-face)  sent  mes- 
sengers to  the  Plain  and  the  Cities,  unto  men  whom  he  knew 
there,  doing  them  to  wit  of  the  tidings  of  Silver-dale,  and  how 
that  a peaceful  and  guest-loving  people,  having  good  store  of 
wares,  now  dwelt  therein,  so  that  chapmen  might  have  re- 
course thither. 

Lastly  spake  Folk-might  and  said  : 

‘ Guests  and  brothers-in-arms,  we  have  been  looking  about  our 
new  house,  which  was  our  old  one,  and  therein  we  find  great  store 
of  wares  which  we  need  not,  and  which  we  can  but  use  if  ye  use 
them.  Of  your  kindness  therefore  we  pray  you  to  take  of  those 
things  what  ye  can  easily  carry.  And  if  ye  say  the  way  is  long, 
as  indeed  it  is,  since  ye  are  bent  on  going  through  the  wood  to 
Rose-dale,  and  so  on  to  Burgdale,  yet  shall  we  furnish  you  with 
beasts  to  bear  your  goods,  and  with  such  wains  as  may  pass  through 
the  woodland  ways.’ 

Then  rose  up  Fox  of  Upton  and  said  : ‘ O Folk-might,  and  ye 
men  of  the  Wolf,  be  it  known  unto  you,  that  if  we  have  done  any- 
thing for  your  help  in  the  winning  of  Silver-dale,  wehave  thus  done 
that  we  might  help  ourselves  also,  so  that  we  might  live  in  peace 
henceforward,  and  that  we  might  have  your  friendship  and  fellow- 
ship therewithal,  so  that  here  in  Silver-dale  might  wax  a mighty 
folk  who  joined  unto  us  should  be  strong  enough  to  face  the  whole 
world.  Such  are  the  redes  of  wise  men  when  they  go  a-warring. 
But  we  have  no  will  to  go  back  home  again  made  rich  with  your 
wealth ; this  hath  been  far  from  our  thought  in  this  matter.’ 

And  there  went  up  a murmur  from  all  the  Burgdalers  yea- 
saying  his  word. 

But  Folk-might  took  up  the  word  again  and  spake  : 

^ Men  of  Burgdale  and  the  Sheepcotes,  what  ye  say  is  both 
manly  and  friendly ; yet,  since  we  look  to  see  a road  made  plain 
through  the  woodland  betwixt  Burgdale  and  Silver-dale,  and 
that  often  ye  shall  face  us  in  the  feast-hall,  and  whiles  stand 
beside  us  in  the  fray,  we  must  needs  pray  you  not  to  shame  us 

393  3 E 


Folk-might 
will  give  the 
Burgdalers 
gifts. 


Stone-face 

speaketh. 

by  departing  empty-handed ; for  how  then  may  we  look  upon 
your  faces  again  ? Stone-face,  my  friend,  thou  art  old  and  wise ; 
therefore  I bid  thee  to  help  us  herein,  and  speak  for  us  to  thy 
kindred,  that  they  naysay  us  not  in  this  matter.’ 

Then  stood  up  Stone-face  and  said  : ‘ Forsooth,  friends,  Folk- 
might  is  in  the  right  herein  ; for  he  may  look  for  anger  from  the 
wights  that  come  and  go  betwixt  his  kindred  and  the  Gods,  if 
they  see  us  faring  back  giftless  through  the  woods.  Moreover, 
now  that  ye  have  seen  Silver-dale,  ye  may  wot  how  rich  a land  it 
is  of  all  good  things,  and  able  to  bring  forth  enough  and  to  spare. 
And  now  meseemeth  the  Gods  love  this  Folk  that  shall  dwell 
here  ; and  they  shall  become  a mighty  Folk,  and  a part  of  our 
very  selves.  Therefore  let  us  take  the  gifts  of  our  friends,  and 
thank  them  blithely.  For  surely,  as  saith  Folk-might,  hence- 
forth the  wood  shall  become  a road  betwixt  us,  and  the  thicket  a 
halting-place  for  friends  bearing  goodwill  in  their  hands.’ 

When  he  had  spoken,  men  yeasaid  his  words  and  forbore 
the  gifts  no  longer ; and  the  Folk-mote  sundered  in  all  loving- 
kindness. 

CHAPTER  LV.  DEPARTURE  FROM  SILVER-DALE. 

the  morrow  of  the  morrow  were  the  Burgdale  men  and 
1 J they  of  the  Shepherds  gathered  together  in  the  Market- 
stead  early  in  the  morning,  and  they  were  all  ready  for 
departure;  and  the  men  of  the  Wolf  and  the  Woodlanders,  and 
of  the  delivered  thralls  a great  many,  stood  round  about  them 
grieving  that  they  must  go.  There  was  much  talk  between  the 
folk  of  the  Dale  and  the  Guests,  and  many  promises  were  given 
and  taken  to  come  and  go  betwixt  the  two  Dales.  There  also 
were  the  men  of  the  thrall-folk  who  were  to  wend  home  with  the 
Burgdalers  ; and  they  had  been  stuffed  with  good  things  by  the 
men  of  the  kindreds,  and  were  as  fain  as  might  be. 

394 

As  for  the  Sun-beam,  she  was  somewhat  out  of  herself  at  first, 
being  eager  and  restless  beyond  her  wont,  and  yet  at  whiles  weep- 
ing-ripe when  she  called  to  mind  that  she  was  now  leaving  all 
those  things,  the  gain  whereof  had  been  a dream  to  her  both 
waking  and  sleeping  for  these  years  past.  But  at  last,  as  she 
stood  in  the  door  of  the  Mote-house,  and  beheld  all  the  throng 
of  folk  happy  and  friendly,  it  came  over  her  that  she  herself  had 
done  her  full  share  to  bring  all  this  about,  and  that  all  those 
pleasant  places  of  Silver-dale  now  full  of  the  goodly  life  of  man 
would  be  there  even  as  she  had  striven  for  them,  and  that  they 
would  be  a part  of  her  left  behind,  though  she  were  dwelling 
otherwhere. 

Therewithal  she  said  to  herself  that  it  was  now  her  part  to 
wield  the  life  of  men  in  Burgdale,  and  begin  once  more  her  days 
of  a chieftain  and  a swayer  of  the  Folk,  and  the  life  of  a stirring 
woman,  which  the  edge  of  the  sword  and  the  need  of  the  hard 
hand-play  had  taken  out  of  her  hands  for  a while,  making  her  as 
a child  in  the  hands  of  the  strong  wielders  of  the  blades. 

So  now  she  became  calm  once  more,  and  her  face  was  clad  again 
with  the  full  measure  of  that  majesty  of  beauty  which  had  once 
overawed  Face-of-god  amidst  his  love  of  her;  and  folk  beheld 
her  and  marvelled  at  her  fairness,  and  said  : ‘ She  hath  an  inward 
sorrow  at  leaving  the  fair  Dale  wherein  her  Fathers  dwelt,  and 
where  her  mother’s  ashes  lie  in  earth.’  Albeit  now  was  her  sorrow 
but  little,  and  much  was  her  hope,  and  her  foresight  of  days  to 
be  ; though  all  the  Dale,  yea,  every  leaf  and  twig  of  it  whereby 
her  feet  had  ever  passed,  and  each  stone  of  the  fair  houses, 
was  to  her  as  a picture  that  she  could  look  on  from  henceforth 
for  ever. 

Of  the  Bride  it  is  to  be  said  that  she  was  now  much  mended, 
and  she  caused  men  bear  her  on  a litter  out  into  the  Market- 
place, that  she  might  look  on  the  departure  of  her  folk.  She  had 
seen  Face-of-god  once  and  again  since  the  Day  of  Battle,  and 
each  time  had  been  kind  and  blithe  with  him  ; and  for  Iron-face, 

395 


The  Sun- 
beam on 
the  eve  of 
departure. 


The  Bride 
sendeth  for 
Face-of-god. 


she  loved  him  so  well  that  she  was  ever  loth  to  let  him  depart 
from  her,  save  when  Folk-might  was  with  her. 

And  now  was  the  Alderman  standing  beside  her,  and  she  said 
to  him  : ‘ Friend  and  kinsman,  this  is  the  day  of  departure,  and 
though  I must  needs  abide  behind,  and  am  content  to  abide,  yet 
doth  mine  heart  ache  with  the  sundering;  for  to-morrow  when  I 
wake  in  the  morning  there  will  be  no  more  sending  of  a mes- 
senger to  fetch  thee  to  me.  Indeed,  great  hath  been  the  love 
between  me  and  my  people,  and  nought  hath  come  between  us 
to  mar  it.  Now,  kinsman,  I would  see  Gold-mane,  my  cousin, 
that  I may  bid  him  farewell ; for  who  knoweth  if  I shall  see  him 
again  hereafter  ? ’ 

Then  went  Iron-face  and  found  Face-of-god  where  he  was 
speaking  with  Folk-might  and  the  chieftains,  and  said  to  him  : 
* Come  quickly,  for  thy  cousin  the  Bride  would  speak  with  thee.’ 
Face-of-god  reddened,  and  paled  afterwards,  but  he  went  along 
with  his  father  silently  ; and  his  heart  beat  as  he  came  and  stood 
before  the  litter  whereas  the  Bride  lay,  clad  all  in  white  and  propped 
up  on  fair  cushions  of  red  silk.  She  was  frail  to  look  on,  and  worn 
and  pale  yet ; but  he  deemed  that  she  was  very  happy. 

She  smiled  on  him,  and  reached  out  her  hand  and  said : 

‘ Welcome  once  more,  cousin  ! ’ And  he  held  her  hand  and 
kissed  it,  and  was  nigh  weeping,  so  sore  was  he  beset  by  a throng 
of  memories  concerning  her  and  him  in  the  days  when  they  were 
little;  and  he  bethought  him  of  her  loving-kindness  of  past  days, 
beyond  that  of  most  children,  beyond  that  of  most  maidens ; and 
how  there  was  nothing  in  his  life  but  she  had  a share  in  it,  till 
the  day  when  he  found  the  Hall  on  the  Mountain. 

So  he  said  to  her  : ‘ Kinswoman,  is  it  well  with  thee  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,’  she  said,  ‘ I am  now  nigh  whole  of  my  hurts.’ 

He  was  silent  a while  ; then  he  said  : 

‘ And  otherwise  art  thou  merry  at  heart  ? ’ 

* Y ea,  indeed,’  said  she  ; ‘ yet  thou  wilt  not  find  it  hard  to  deem 
that  I am  sorry  of  the  sundering  betwixt  me  and  Burgdale.’ 

396 


Again  was  he  silent,  and  said  in  a while : ‘ Dost  thou  deem 
that  I wrought  that  sundering  ? ’ 

She  smiled  kindly  on  him  and  said  : ^ Gold-mane,  my  play- 
mate, thou  art  become  a mighty  warrior  and  a great  chief ; but 
thou  art  not  so  mighty  as  that.  Many  things  lay  behind  the 
sundering  which  were  neither  thou  nor  L’ 

‘ Yet,’  said  he,  Mt  was  but  such  a little  time  agone  that  all 
things  seemed  so  sure  ; and  we — to  both  of  us  was  the  outlook 
happy.  ’ 

‘ Let  it  be  happy  still,’  she  said,  * now  begrudging  is  gone.  Be- 
like the  sundering  came  because  we  were  so  sure,  and  had  no  de- 
fence against  the  wearing  of  the  days  ; even  as  it  fareth  with  a 
folk  that  hath  no  foes.’ 

He  smiled  and  said : ‘ Even  as  it  hath  befallen  thy  folk,  O 
Bride,  a while  ago.’ 

She  reddened,  and  reached  her  hand  to  him,  and  he  took  it  and 
held  it,  and  said  : ‘ Shall  I see  thee  again  as  the  days  wear?’ 
Said  she  : ‘ O chieftain  of  the  Folk,  thou  shalt  have  much  to 
do  in  Burgdale,  and  the  way  is  long.  Yet  would  I have  thee 
see  my  children.  Forget  not  the  token  on  my  hand  which  thou 
boldest.  But  now  get  thee  to  thy  folk  with  no  more  words  ; for 
after  all,  playmate,  the  sundering  is  grievous  to  me,  and  I would 
not  spin  out  the  time  thereof.  Farewell  ! ’ 

He  said  no  more,  but  stooped  down  and  kissed  her  lips,  and 
then  turned  from  her,  and  took  his  ways  to  the  head  of  the  Host, 
and  fell  to  asking  and  answering,  and  bidding  and  arraying ; and 
in  a little  time  was  his  heart  dancing  with  joy  to  think  of  the  days 
that  lay  before  him,  wherein  now  all  seemed  happ3^ 

So  was  all  arrayed  for  departure  when  it  lacked  three  hours 
of  noon.  As  Folk-might  had  promised,  there  were  certain  light 
wains  drawn  by  bullocks  abiding  the  departure  of  the  Host,  and 
of  sumpter  bullocks  and  horses  no  few;  and  all  these  were  laden 
with  fair  gifts  of  the  Dale,  as  silver,  and  raiment,  and  weapons. 
There  were  many  things  fair-wrought  in  the  time  of  the  Sorrow, 

397 


She  biddeth 
him  farewell. 


The  Host 
arrayed  for 
departure. 


that  henceforth  should  see  but  little  sorrow.  Moreover,  there  was 
plenty  of  provision  for  the  way,  both  meal  and  wine,  and  sheep 
and  neat ; and  all  things  as  fair  as  might  be,  and  well-arrayed. 

It  was  the  Shepherds  who  were  to  lead  the  way ; and  after  them 
were  arrayed  the  men  of  the  Vine  and  the  Sickle ; then  they  of 
the  Steer,  the  Bridge,  and  the  Bull ; and  lastly  the  House  of  the 
Face,  with  old  Stone-face  leading  them.  The  Sun-beam  was  to 
journey  along  with  the  House  of  the  Steer,  which  had  taken  her 
in  as  a maiden  of  their  blood ; and  though  she  had  so  much  liefer 
have  fared  with  the  House  of  the  Face,  yet  she  went  meekly  as 
she  was  bidden,  as  one  who  has  gotten  a great  thing,  and  will 
make  no  stir  about  a small  one. 

Along  with  her  were  Wood-father  and  Wood-mother,  and 
Wood-wise,  now  whole  of  his  hurt,  and  Wood-wont,  and  Bow- 
may.  Save  Bow-may,  they  were  not  very  joyous ; for  they  were 
fain  of  Silver-dale,  and  it  irked  them  to  leave  it  ; moreover, 
they  also  had  liefer  have  gone  along  with  the  House  of  the 
War-leader. 

Last  of  all  went  those  people  of  the  once  thralls  of  the  Dusky 
Men  who  had  cast  in  their  lot  with  the  Burgdalers,  and  they  were 
exceeding  merry;  and  especiall}^  the  women  of  them,  they  were 
chattering  like  the  stares  in  the  autumn  evening,  when  they  gather 
from  the  fields  in  the  tall  elm-trees  before  they  go  to  roost. 

Now  all  the  men  of  the  Dale,  both  of  the  kindreds  and  of  the 
thrall-folk,  made  way  for  the  Host  and  its  havings,  that  they 
might  go  their  ways  down  the  Dale ; albeit  the  Woodlanders 
clung  close  to  the  line  of  their  ancient  friends,  and  with  them,  as 
men  who  were  sorry  for  the  sundering,  were  Wolf-stone  and  God- 
swain  and  Spear-fist.  But  the  chiefs,  they  drew  around  Folk- 
might  a little  beside  the  way. 

Now  Red-coat  of  Waterless,  who  had  been  hurt,  and  was  now 
whole  again,  cast  his  arms  about  Folk-might  and  kissed  him, 
and  said : 

‘ All  the  way  hence  to  Burgdale  will  I sow  with  good  wishes 

398 


for  thee  and  thine,  and  especially  for  my  dear  friend  God-swain 
of  the  Silver  Arm  ; and  I would  wish  and  long  that  they  might 
turn  into  spells  to  draw  thy  feet  to  usward ; for  we  love  thee  well.’ 

In  like  wise  spake  other  of  the  Burgdalers ; and  Folk-might 
was  kind  and  blithe  with  them,  and  he  said  : 

‘ Friends,  forget  ye  not  that  the  way  is  no  longer  from  you  to 
us  than  it  is  from  us  to  you.  One  half  of  this  matter  it  is  for  you 
to  deal  with.’ 

‘True  is  that,’  said  Red-beard  of  the  Knolls,  ‘but  look  you. 
Folk-might,  we  be  but  simple  husbandmen,  and  may  not  often 
stir  from  our  meadows  and  acres  ; even  now  I bethink  me  that 
May  is  amidst  us,  and  I am  beginning  to  be  drawn  by  the  thought 
of  the  haysel.  Whereas  thou — ’ (and  therewith  he  reddened) 
‘ I doubt  that  thou  hast  little  to  do  save  the  work  of  chieftains,  and 
we  know  that  such  work  is  but  little  missed  if  it  be  undone.’ 

Thereat  Folk-might  laughed ; and  when  the  others  saw  that 
he  laughed,  they  laughed  also,  else  had  they  foreborne  for  cour- 
tesy’s sake. 

But  Folk-might  answered:  ‘Nay,  chief  of  the  Sickle,  I am  not 
altogether  a chieftain,  now  we  have  gotten  us  peace;  and  some- 
what of  a husbandman  shall  I be.  Moreover,  doubt  ye  not  that 
I shall  do  my  utmost  to  behold  the  fair  Dale  again ; for  it  is  but 
mountains  that  meet  not.’ 

Now  spake  Face-of-god  to  Folk-might,  smiling  and  somewhat 
softly,  and  said : ‘ Is  all  forgiven  now,  since  the  day  when  we  first 
felt  each  other’s  arms  ? ’ 

‘Yea,  all,’  said  Folk-might;  ‘now  hath  befallen  what  I fore- 
told thee  in  Shadowy  Vale,  that  thou  mightest  pay  for  all  that  had 
come  and  gone,  if  thou  wouldest  but  look  to  it.  Indeed  thou  wert 
angry  with  me  for  that  saying  on  that  eve  of  Shadowy  Vale ; but 
see  thou,  in  those  days  I was  an  older  man  than  thou,  and  might 
admonish  thee  somewhat ; but  now,  though  but  few  days  have 
gone  over  thine  head,  yet  many  deeds  have  abided  in  thine  hand, 
and  thou  art  much  aged.  Anger  hath  left  thee,  and  wisdom  hath 

399 


Speech  of  the 
Chieftains. 


Now  they 
depart  and 
sing  withal. 


waxed  in  thee.  As  for  me,  I may  now  say  this  word  : May  the 
Folk  of  Burgdale  love  the  Folk  of  Silver-dale  as  well  as  I love 
thee  ; then  shall  all  be  well.’ 

Then  Face-of-god  cast  his  arms  about  him  and  kissed  him,  and 
turned  away  toward  Stone-face  and  Hall-face  his  brother,  where 
they  stood  at  the  head  of  the  array  of  the  Face;  and  even  there- 
with came  up  the  Alderman  somewhat  sad  and  sober  of  counte- 
nance, and  he  pushed  by  the  War-leader  roughly  and  would  not 
speak  with  him. 

And  now  blew  up  the  horns  of  the  Shepherds,  and  they  began 
to  move  on  amidst  the  shouting  of  the  men  of  Silver-dale  ; yet 
were  there  amongst  the  Woodlanders  those  who  wept  when  they 
saw  their  friends  verily  departing  from  them. 

But  when  they  of  the  foremost  of  the  Host  were  gotten  so  far 
forward  that  the  men  of  the  Face  could  begin  to  move,  lo!  there 
was  Redesman  with  his  fiddle  amongst  the  leaders ; and  he  had 
done  a man’s  work  in  the  day  of  battle,  and  all  looked  kindly  on 
him.  About  him  on  this  morn  were  some  who  had  learned  the 
craft  of  singing  well  together,  and  knew  his  minstrelsy,  and  he 
turned  to  these  and  nodded  as  their  array  moved  on,  and  he  drew 
his  bow  across  the  strings,  and  straightway  they  fell  a-singing, 
even  as  it  might  be  thus  : 

Back  again  to  the  dear  Dale  where  born  was  the  kindred. 
Here  wend  we  all  living,  and  liveth  our  mirth. 

Here  afoot  fares  our  joyance,  whatever  men  hindred. 

Through  all  wrath  of  the  heavens,  all  storms  of  the  earth. 

O true,  we  have  left  here  a part  of  our  treasure. 

The  ashes  of  stout  ones,  the  stems  of  the  shield  ; 

But  the  bold  lives  they  spended  have  sown  us  new  pleasure. 
Fair  tales  for  the  telling  in  fold  and  on  field. 

For  as  oft  as  we  sing  of  their  edges’  upheaving, 

When  the  yellowing  windows  shine  forth  o’er  the  night, 
400 


Their  names  unforgotten  with  song  interweaving 

Shall  draw  forth  dear  drops  from  the  depths  of  delight. 

Or  when  down  by  our  feet  the  grey  sickles  are  lying, 

And  behind  us  is  curling  the  supper-tide  smoke, 

No  whit  shall  they  grudge  us  the  joyance  undying. 
Remembrance  of  men  that  put  from  us  the  yoke. 

When  the  huddle  of  ewes  from  the  fells  we  have  driven. 

And  we  see  down  the  Dale  the  grey  reach  of  the  roof. 

We  shall  tell  of  the  gift  in  the  battle-joy  given. 

All  the  fierceness  of  friends  that  drave  sorrow  aloof. 

Once  then  we  lamented,  and  mourned  them  departed  ; 

Once  only,  no  oftener.  Henceforth  shall  we  fling 

Their  names  up  aloft,  when  the  merriest  hearted 
To  the  Fathers  unseen  of  our  life-days  we  sing. 

Then  was  there  silence  in  the  ranks  of  men ; and  many  mur- 
mured the  names  of  the  fallen  as  they  fared  on  their  way  from 
out  the  Market-place  of  Silver-stead,  Then  once  more  Redes- 
man and  his  mates  took  up  the  song  : 

Come  tell  me,  O friends,  for  whom  bideth  the  maiden 
Wet-foot  from  the  river-ford  down  in  the  Dale  ? 

For  whom  hath  the  goodwife  the  ox-waggon  laden 
With  the  babble  of  children,  brown-handed  and  hale? 

Come  tell  me  for  what  are  the  women  abiding, 

Till  each  on  the  other  aweary  they  lean  ? 

Is  it  loitering  of  evil  that  thus  they  are  chiding. 

The  slow-footed  bearers  of  sorrow  unseen  ? 

Nay,  yet  were  they  toiling  if  sorrow  had  worn  them. 

Or  hushed  had  they  bided  with  lips  parched  and  wan. 

The  birds  of  the  air  other  tidings  have  borne  them — 

How  glad  through  the  wood  goeth  man  beside  man. 

401  3 F 


They  sing  of 
their  dead. 
They  sing  of 
the  home- 
coming of 
the  Host. 


They  sing  of  Then  fare  forth,  O valiant,  and  loiter  no  longer 

the  sundering  Than  the  cry  of  the  cuckoo  when  May  is  at  hand  ; 

of  friends.  Late  waxeth  the  spring-tide,  and  daylight  grows  longer. 

And  nightly  the  star-street  hangs  high  o’er  the  land. 

Many  lives,  many  days  for  the  Dale  do  ye  carry  ; 

When  the  Host  breaketh  out  from  the  thicket  unshorn, 

It  shall  be  as  the  sun  that  refuseth  to  tarry 

On  the  crown  of  all  mornings,  the  Midsummer  morn. 

Again  the  song  fell  down  till  they  were  well  on  the  western 
way  down  Silver-dale ; and  then  Redesman  handled  his  fiddle  once 
more,  and  again  the  song  rose  up,  and  such-like  were  the  words 
which  were  borne  back  into  the  Market-place  of  Silver-stead  : 

And  yet  what  is  this,  and  why  fare  ye  so  slowly. 

While  our  echoing  halls  of  our  voices  are  dumb, 

And  abideth  unlitten  the  hearth-brand  the  holy. 

And  the  feet  of  the  kind  fare  afield  till  we  come  ? 

For  not  yet  through  the  wood  and  its  tangle  ye  wander ; 

Now  skirt  we  no  thicket,  no  path  by  the  mere ; 

Far  aloof  for  our  feet  leads  the  Dale-road  out  yonder  ; 

Full  fair  is  the  morning,  its  doings  all  clear. 

There  is  nought  now  our  feet  on  the  highway  delaying 

Save  the  friend’s  loving-kindness,  the  sundering  of  speech ; 
The  well-willer’s  word  that  ends  words  with  the  saying, 

The  loth  to  depart  while  each  looketh  on  each. 

Fare  on  then,  for  nought  are  ye  laden  with  sorrow ; 

The  love  of  this  land  do  ye  bear  with  you  still. 

In  two  Dales  of  the  earth  for  to-day  and  to-morrow 
Is  waxing  the  oak-tree  of  peace  and  good-will. 

Thus  then  they  departed  from  Silver-dale,  even  as  men  who 
were  a portion  thereof,  and  had  not  utterly  left  it  behind.  And 

402 


that  night  they  lay  in  the  wild-wood  not  very  far  from  the  Dale’s  They  talk  of 
end  ; for  they  went  softly,  faring  amongst  so  many  friends.  to  come. 


CHAPTER  LVI.  TALK  UPON  THE  WILD-WOOD  WAY. 

ON  the  morrow  morning  when  they  were  on  their  way  again 
Face-of-god  left  his  own  folk  to  go  with  the  House  of  the 
Steer  a while;  and  amongst  them  he  fell  in  with  the  Sun- 
beam going  along  with  Bow-may.  So  they  greeted  him  kindly, 
and  Face-of-god  fell  into  talk  with  the  Sun-beam  as  they  went 
side  by  side  through  a great  oak-wood,  where  for  a space  was 
plain  green-sward  bare  of  all  underwood. 

So  in  their  talk  he  said  to  her  : ‘ What  deemest  thou,  my 
speech-friend,  concerning  our  coming  back  to  guest  in  Silver- 
dale  one  day  ? ’ 

‘ The  way  is  long,’  she  said. 

‘ That  may  hinder  us  but  not  stay  us,’  said  Face-of-god. 

* That  is  sooth,’  said  the  Sun-beam. 

Said  Face-of-god  : ‘ What  things  shall  stay  us  ? Or  deemest 
thou  that  we  shall  never  see  Silver-dale  again  ? ’ 

She  smiled  : ‘ Even  so  I think  thou  deemest.  Gold-mane.  But 
many  things  shall  hinder  us  besides  the  long  road  ? ’ 

Said  he  : ^ Yea,  and  what  things  ? ’ 

‘ Thinkest  thou,’  said  the  Sun-beam,  ‘ that  the  winning  of 
Silver-stead  is  the  last  battle  which  thou  shalt  see  ? ’ 

‘ Nay,’  said  he,  ‘ nay.’ 

‘ Shall  thy  Dale — our  Dale — be  free  from  all  trouble  within 
itself  henceforward  ? Is  there  a wall  built  round  it  to  keep  out 
for  ever  storm,  pestilence,  and  famine,  and  the  waywardness  of 
its  own  folk  ? ’ 

‘So  it  is  as  thou  sayest,’  quoth  Face-of-god,  ‘and  to  meet 
such  troubles  and  overcome  them,  or  to  die  in  strife  with  them, 
this  is  a great  part  of  a man’s  life.’ 

403 


They  wend  ‘ Yea,’  she  said,  * and  hast  thou  forgotten  that  thou  art  now  a 
on  through  great  chieftain,  and  that  the  folk  shall  look  to  thee  to  use  thee 
the  wood.  many  days  in  the  year  ? ’ 

He  laughed  and  said : ‘ So  it  is.  How  many  days  have  gone 
by  since  I wandered  in  the  wood  last  autumn,  that  the  world 
should  have  changed  so  much  ! ’ 

‘ Many  deeds  shall  now  be  in  thy  days,’  she  said,  ^ and  each 
deed  as  the  corn  of  wheat  from  which  cometh  many  corns;  and  a 
man’s  days  on  the  earth  are  not  over  many.’ 

‘ Then  farewell,  Silver-dale  ! ’ said  he,  waving  his  hand  toward 
the  north.  ‘ War  and  trouble  may  bring  me  back  to  thee,  but  it 
maybe  nought  else  shall.  Farewell ! ’ 

She  looked  on  him  fondly  but  unsmiling,  as  he  went  beside 
her  strong  and  warrior-like.  Three  paces  from  him  went  Bow- 
may,  barefoot,  in  her  white  kirtle,  but  bearing  her  bow  in  her 
hand ; a leash  of  arrows  was  in  her  girdle,  her  quiver  hung  at 
her  back,  and  she  was  girt  with  a sword.  On  the  other  side  went 
Wood‘Wont  and  Wood-wise,  lightly  clad  but  weaponed.  Wood- 
mother  was  riding  in  an  ox-wain  just  behind  them,  and  Wood- 
father  went  beside  her  bearing  an  axe.  Scattered  all  about  them 
were  the  men  of  the  Steer,  gaily  clad,  bearing  weapons,  so  that 
the  oak-wood  was  bright  with  them,  and  the  glades  merry  with 
their  talk  and  singing  and  laughter,  and  before  them  down  the 
glades  went  the  banner  of  the  Steer,  and  the  White  Beast  led 
them  the  nearest  way  to  Burgdale. 


CHAPTER  LVII.  HOW  THE  HOST  CAME  HOME  AGAIN. 

IT  was  fourteen  days  before  they  came  to  Rose-dale  ; for  they 
had  much  baggage  with  them,  and  they  had  no  mind  to 
weary  themselves,  and  the  wood  was  nothing  loathsome  to 
them,  whereas  the  weather  was  fair  and  bright  for  the  more  part. 
They  fell  in  with  no  mishap  by  the  way.  But  a score  and  three 

404 


of  runaways  joined  themselves  to  the  Host,  having  watched 
their  goings  and  wotting  that  they  were  not  foemen.  Of  these, 
some  had  heard  of  the  overthrow  of  the  Dusky  Men  in  Silver- 
dale,  and  others  not.  The  Burgdalers  received  them  all,  for  it 
seemed  to  them  no  great  matter  for  a score  or  so  of  new-comers 
to  the  Dale. 

But  when  the  Host  was  come  to  Rose-dale,  they  found  it  fair 
and  lovely  ; and  there  they  met  with  those  of  their  folk  who  had 
gone  with  Dallach.  But  Dallach  welcomed  the  kindreds  with 
great  joy,  and  bade  them  abide ; for  he  said  that  they  had  the 
less  need  to  hasten,  since  he  had  sent  messengers  into  Burgdale 
to  tell  men  there  of  the  tidings.  Albeit  they  were  mostly  loth 
to  tarry ; yet  when  he  lay  hard  on  them  not  to  depart  as  men  on 
the  morrow  of  a gild-feast,  they  abode  there  three  days,  and  were 
as  well  guested  as  might  be,  and  on  their  departure  they  were 
laden  with  gifts  from  the  wealth  of  Rose-dale  by  Dallach  and 
his  folk. 

Before  they  went  their  ways  Dallach  spake  with  Face-of-god 
and  the  chiefs  of  the  Dalesmen,  and  said  : 

^ Ye  have  given  me  much  from  the  time  when  ye  found  me  in 
the  wood  a naked  wastrel ; yet  now  I would  ask  you  a gift  to  lay 
on  the  top  of  all  that  ye  have  given  me.’ 

Said  Face-of-god:  ‘Name  the  gift,  and  thou  shalt  have  it; 
for  we  deem  thee  our  friend.’ 

‘ I am  no  less,’  said  Dallach,  ‘ as  in  time  to  come  I may  per- 
chance be  able  to  show  you.  But  now  I am  asking  you  to 
suffer  a score  or  two  of  your  men  to  abide  here  with  me  this 
summer,  till  I see  how  this  folk  new-born  again  is  like  to  deal 
with  me.  For  pleasure  and  a fair  life  have  become  so  strange 
to  them,  that  they  scarce  know  what  to  do  with  them,  or  how 
to  live ; and  unless  all  is  to  go  awry,  I must  needs  command 
and  forbid  ; and  though  belike  they  love  me,  yet  they  fear  me 
not ; so  that  when  my  commandment  pleaseth  them,  they  do 
as  I bid,  and  when  it  pleaseth  them  not,  they  do  contrary  to  my 

405 


The  Host  in 
Rose-dale. 


Some  of  the 
young  men 
tarry  with 
Dallach  in 
Rose-dale. 


bidding  ; for  it  hath  got  into  their  minds  that  I shall  in  no  case 
lift  a hand  against  them,  which  indeed  is  the  very  sooth.  But 
your  folk  they  fear  as  warriors  of  the  world,  who  have  slain  the 
Dusky  Men  in  the  Market-place  of  Silver-stead ; and  they  are 
of  alien  blood  to  them,  men  who  will  do  as  their  friend  biddeth 
(think  oar  folk)  against  them  who  are  neither  friends  or  foes. 
With  such  help  I shall  be  well  holpen.’ 

In  such  wise  spake  Dallach;  and  Face-of-god  and  the  chiefs 
said  that  so  it  should  be,  if  men  could  be  found  willing  to  abide 
in  Rose-dale  for  a while.  And  when  the  matter  was  put  abroad, 
there  was  no  lack  of  such  men  amongst  the  younger  warriors, 
who  had  noted  that  the  dale  was  fair  amongst  dales  and  its 
women  fairer  yet  amongst  women. 

So  two  score  and  ten  of  the  Burgdale  men  abode  in  Rose- 
dale,  no  one  of  whom  was  of  more  than  twenty  and  five  winters. 
Forsooth  divers  of  them  set  up  house  in  Rose-dale,  and  never 
came  back  to  Burgdale,  save  as  guests.  For  a half  score  were 
wedded  in  Rose-dale  before  the  year’s  ending  ; and  seven  more, 
who  had  also  taken  to  them  wives  of  the  goodliest  of  the  Rose  • 
dale  women,  betook  them  the  next  spring  to  the  Burg  of  the 
Runaways,  and  there  built  them  a stead,  and  drew  a garth  about 
it,  and  dug  and  sowed  the  banks  of  the  river,  which  they  called 
Inglebourne.  And  as  years  passed,  this  same  stead  throve  ex- 
ceedingly, and  men  resorted  thither  both  from  Rose-dale  and 
Burgdale ; for  it  was  a pleasant  place  ; and  the  land,  when  it 
was  cured,  was  sweet  and  good,  and  the  wood  thereabout  was  full 
of  deer  of  all  kinds.  So  their  stead  was  called  Inglebourne  after 
the  stream  ; and  in  latter  days  it  became  a very  goodly  habita- 
tion of  men. 

Moreover,  some  of  the  once-enthralled  folk  of  Rose-dale,  when 
they  knew  that  men  of  their  kindred  from  Silver-dale  were  going 
home  with  the  men  of  Burgdale  to  dwell  in  the  Dale,  prayed 
hard  to  go  along  with  them  ; for  they  looked  on  the  Burgdalers 
as  if  they  were  new  Gods  of  the  Earth.  The  Burgdale  chiefs 


would  not  gainsay  these  men  either,  but  took  with  them  three 
score  and  ten  from  Rose-dale,  men  and  women,  and  promised 
them  dwelling  and  livelihood  in  Burgdale. 

So  now  with  good  hearts  the  Host  of  Burgdale  turned  their 
faces  toward  their  well-beloved  Dale ; and  they  made  good 
diligence,  so  that  in  three  days’  time  they  were  come  anigh  the 
edge  of  the  woodland  wilderness.  Thither  in  the  even- tide,  as 
they  were  making  ready  for  their  last  supper  and  bed  in  the 
wood,  came  three  men  and  two  women  of  their  folk,  who  had 
been  abiding  their  coming  ever  since  they  had  had  the  tidings  of 
Silver-dale  and  the  battles  from  Dallach.  Great  was  the  joy  of 
these  messengers  as  they  went  from  company  to  company  of  the 
warriors,  and  saw  the  familiar  faces  of  their  friends,  and  heard 
their  wonted  voices  telling  all  the  story  of  battle  and  slaughter. 
And  for  their  part  the  men  of  the  Host  feasted  these  stay-at- 
homes,  and  made  much  of  them.  But  one  of  them,  a man  of  the 
House  of  the  Face,  left  the  Host  a little  after  nightfall,  and  bore 
back  to  Burgstead  at  once  the  tidings  of  the  coming  home  of  the 
Host.  Albeit  since  Dallach’s  tidings  of  victory  had  come  to  the 
Dale,  the  dwellers  in  the  steads  of  the  country-side  had  left 
Burgstead  and  gone  home  to  their  own  houses ; so  that  there 
was  no  great  multitude  abiding  in  the  Thorp. 

So  early  on  the  morrow  was  the  Host  astir ; but  ere  they 
came  to  Wildlake’s  Way,  the  Shepherd-folk  turned  aside  west- 
ward to  go  home,  after  they  had  bidden  farewell  to  their  friends 
and  fellows  of  the  Dale  ; for  their  souls  longed  for  the  sheep- 
cotes  in  the  winding  valleys  under  the  long  grey  downs ; and  the 
garths  where  the  last  year’s  ricks  shouldered  up  against  the  old 
stone  gables,  and  where  the  daws  were  busy  in  the  tall  unfre- 
quent ash-trees  ; and  the  green  flowery  meadows  adown  along 
the  bright  streams,  where  the  crowfoot  and  the  paigles  were 
blooming  now,  and  the  harebells  were  in  flower  about  the  thorn- 
bushes  at  the  down’s  foot,  whence  went  the  savour  of  their  blossom 
over  sheep-walk  and  water-meadow. 

407 


The  Host 
cometh  to 
the  edge  oi 
Burgdale. 


Now  hath 
the  Host 
come  home. 


So  these  went  their  ways  with  many  kind  words ; and  two 
hours  afterwards  all  the  rest  of  the  Host  stood  on  the  level 
ground  of  the  Portway ; but  presently  were  the  ranks  of  war 
disordered  and  broken  up  by  the  joy  of  the  women  and  children, 
as  they  fell  to  drawing  goodman  or  brother  or  lover  out  of  the 
throng  to  the  way  that  led  speediest  to  their  homesteads  and 
halls.  For  the  War-leader  would  not  hold  the  Host  together 
any  longer,  but  suffered  each  man  to  go  to  his  home,  deeming 
that  the  men  of  Burgstead,  and  chiefly  they  of  the  Face  and  the 
Steer,  would  suffice  for  a company  if  any  need  were,  and  they 
would  be  easily  gathered  to  meet  any  hap. 

So  now  the  men  of  the  Middle  and  Lower  Dale  made  for  their 
houses  by  the  road  and  the  lanes  and  the  meadows,  and  the 
men  of  the  Upper  Dale  and  Burgstead  went  their  ways  along 
the  Portway  toward  their  halls,  with  the  throng  of  women 
and  children  that  had  come  out  to  meet  them.  And  now  men 
came  home  when  it  was  yet  early,  and  the  long  day  lay  before 
them ; and  it  was,  as  it  were,  made  giddy  and  cumbered  with 
the  exceeding  joy  of  return,  and  the  thought  of  the  day  when 
the  fear  of  death  and  sundering  had  been  ever  in  their  hearts. 
For  these  new  hours  were  full  of  the  kissing  and  embracing  of 
lovers,  and  the  sweetness  of  renewed  delight  in  beholding  the  fair 
bodies  so  sorely  desired,  and  hearkening  the  soft  wheedling  of 
longed-for  voices.  There  were  the  cups  of  friends  beneath  the 
chestnut  trees,  and  the  talk  of  the  deeds  of  the  fighting-men,  and 
of  the  heavy  days  of  the  home-abiders ; many  a tale  told  oft  and 
o’er  again.  There  was  the  singing  of  old  songs  and  of  new, 
and  the  beholding  the  well-loved  nook  of  the  pleasant  places, 
which  death  might  well  have  made  nought  for  them ; and  they 
were  sweet  with  the  fear  of  that  which  was  past,  and  in  their 
pleasantness  was  fresh  promise  for  the  days  to  come. 

So  amid  their  joyance  came  evening  and  nightfall ; and  though 
folk  were  weary  with  the  fulness  of  delight,  yet  now  for  many 
their  weariness  led  them  to  the  chamber  of  love  before  the  rest  of 

408 


deep  night  came  to  them  to  make  them  strong  for  the  happy  life 
to  be  begun  again  on  the  morrow. 

House  by  house  they  feasted,  and  few  were  the  lovers  that 
sat  not  together  that  even.  But  Face-of-god  and  the  Sun-beam 
parted  at  the  door  of  the  House  of  the  Face  ; for  needs  must 
she  go  with  her  new  folk  to  the  House  of  the  Steer,  and  needs 
must  Face-of-god  be  amongst  his  own  folk  in  that  hour  of  high- 
tide,  and  sit  beside  his  father  beneath  the  image  of  the  God  with 
the  ray-begirt  head. 


CHAPTER  LVIII.  HOW  THE  MAIDEN  WARD  WAS  HELD 
IN  BURGDALE. 

NOW  May  was  well  worn  when  the  Host  came  home  to 
Burgdale;  and  on  the  very  morrow  of  men’s  home-coming 
they  began  to  talk  eagerly  of  the  Midsummer  Weddings, 
and  how  the  Maiden  Ward  would  be  the  greatest  and  fairest 
of  all  yet  seen,  whereas  battle  and  the  deliverance  from  battle 
stir  up  the  longing  and  love  both  of  men  and  maidens  ; much 
also  men  spake  of  the  wedding  of  Face-of-god  and  the  Sun- 
beam ; and  needs  must  their  wedding  abide  to  the  time  of  the 
Maiden  Ward  at  Midsummer,  and  needs  also  must  the  Sun- 
beam go  on  the  Ward  with  the  other  Brides  of  the  Folk.  So 
then  must  Face-of-god  keep  his  soul  in  patience  till  those  few 
days  were  over,  doing  what  work  came  to  hand  ; and  he  held 
his  head  high  among  the  people,  and  was  well  looked  to  of 
every  man. 

In  all  matters  the  Sun-beam  helped  him,  both  in  doing  and 
in  forbearing  ; and  now  so  wonderful  and  rare  was  her  beauty, 
that  folk  looked  on  her  with  somewhat  of  fear,  as  though  she 
came  from  the  very  folk  of  the  Gods. 

Indeed  she  seemed  somewhat  changed  from  what  she  had  been 
of  late ; she  was  sober  of  demeanour  during  these  last  days  of 

409  3 G 


Folk  look  to 
the  Maiden 
Ward. 


The  gather- 
ing of  the 
Brides. 


her  maidenhood,  and  sat  amongst  the  kindred  as  one  communing 
with  herself  : of  few  words  she  was  and  little  laughter  ; but  her 
face  clear,  not  overcast  by  any  gloom  or  shaken  by  passion : soft 
and  kind  was  she  in  converse  with  others,  and  sweet  were  the 
smiles  that  came  into  her  face  if  others’  faces  seemed  to  crave  for 
them.  For  it  must  be  said  that  as  some  folk  eat  out  their 
hearts  with  fear  of  the  coming  evils,  even  so  was  she  feeding  her 
soul  with  the  joy  of  the  days  to  be,  whatever  trouble  might  fall 
upon  them,  whereof  belike  she  foreboded  some. 

So  wore  the  days  toward  Midsummer,  when  the  wheat  was 
getting  past  the  blossoming,  and  the  grass  in  the  mown  fields 
was  growing  deep  green  again  after  the  shearing  of  the  scythe ; 
when  the  leaves  were  most  and  biggest  ; when  the  roses  were 
beginning  to  fall;  when  the  apples  were  reddening,  and  the  skins 
of  the  grape-berries  gathering  bloom.  High  aloft  floated  the  light 
clouds  over  the  Dale ; deep  blue  showed  the  distant  fells  below 
the  ice-mountains  ; the  waters  dwindled  ; all  things  sought  the 
shadow  by  daytime,  and  the  twilight  of  even  and  the  twilight  of 
dawn  were  but  sundered  by  three  hours  of  half-dark  night. 

So  in  the  bright  forenoon  were  seventeen  brides  assembled  in 
the  Gate  of  Burgstead  (but  of  the  rest  of  the  Dale  were  twenty 
and  three  looked  for),  and  with  these  was  the  Sun-beam,  her  face 
as  calm  as  the  mountain  lake  under  a summer  sunset,  while  of 
the  others  many  were  restless,  and  babbling  like  April  throstles  ; 
and  not  a few  talked  to  her  eagerly,  and  in  their  restless  love  of 
her  dragged  her  about  hither  and  thither. 

No  men  were  to  be  seen  that  morning ; for  such  was  the  cus- 
tom, that  the  carles  either  departed  to  the  fields  and  the  acres, 
or  abode  within  doors  on  the  morn  of  the  day  of  the  Maiden 
Ward  ; but  there  was  a throng  of  women  about  the  Gate  and 
down  the  street  of  Burgstead,  and  it  may  well  be  deemed  that 
they  kept  not  silence  that  hour. 

So  fared  the  Brides  of  Burgstead  to  the  place  of  the  Maiden 
Ward  on  the  causeway,  whereto  were  come  already  the  other 

410 


brides  from  steads  up  and  down  the  Dale,  or  were  even  then  close  The  array  of 
at  hand  on  the  way ; and  among  them  were  Long-coat  and  her  Brides, 
two  fellows,  with  whom  Face-of-god  had  held  converse  on  that 
morning  whereon  he  had  followed  his  fate  to  the  Mountain. 

There  then  were  they  gathered  under  the  cliff-wall  of  the 
Portway ; and  by  the  road-side  had  their  grooms  built  them  up 
bowers  of  green  boughs  to  shelter  them  from  the  sun’s  burning, 
which  were  thatched  with  bulrushes,  and  decked  with  garlands 
of  the  fairest  flowers  of  the  meadows  and  the  gardens. 

Forsooth  they  were  a lovely  sight  to  look  on,  for  no  fairer 
women  might  be  seen  in  the  world;  and  the  eldest  of  them  was  scant 
of  five  and  twenty  winters.  Every  maiden  was  clad  in  as  goodly 
raiment  as  she  might  compass;  their  sleeves  and  gown-hems  and 
girdles,  yea,  their  very  shoes  and  sandals  were  embroidered  so  fairly 
and  closely,  that  as  they  shifted  in  the  sun  they  changed  colour  like 
the  king-fisher  shooting  from  shadow  to  sunshine.  According  to 
due  custom  every  maiden  bore  some  weapon.  A few  had  bows  in 
their  hands  and  quivers  at  their  backs  ; some  had  nought  but  a 
sword  girt  to  their  sides  ; some  bore  slender-shafted  spears,  so  as 
not  to  overburden  their  shapely  hands ; but  to  some  it  seemed  a 
merry  game  to  carry  long  and  heavy  thrust-spears,  or  to  bear 
great  war-axes  over  their  shoulders.  Most  had  their  flowing  hair 
coifed  with  bright  helms ; some  had  burdened  their  arms  with 
shields;  some  bore  steel  hauberks  over  their  linen  smocks:  al- 
most all  had  some  piece  of  war-gear  on  their  bodies;  and  one, 
to  wit,  Steed-linden  of  the  Sickle,  a tall  and  fair  damsel,  was 
so  arrayed  that  no  garment  could  be  seen  on  her  but  bright  steel 
war-gear. 

As  for  the  Sun-beam,  she  was  clad  in  a white  kirtle  embroidered 
from  throat  to  hem  with  work  of  green  boughs  and  flowers  of  the 
goodliest  fashion,  and  a garland  of  roses  on  her  head.  Dale- 
warden  himself  was  girt  to  her  side  by  a girdle  fair-wrought  of 
golden  wire,  and  she  bore  no  other  weapon  or  war-gear;  and  she  let 
him  lie  quiet  in  his  scabbard,  nor  touched  the  hilts  once  ; whereas 

41 1 


They  bar  the 
road  to  new- 
comers. 


some  of  the  other  damsels  would  be  ever  drawing  their  swords 
out  and  thrusting  them  back.  But  all  noted  that  goodly  weapon, 
the  yoke-fellow  of  so  many  great  deeds. 

There  then  on  the  Portway,  between  the  water  and  the  rock- 
wall,  rose  up  plenteous  and  gleeful  talk  of  clear  voices  shrill  and 
soft ; and  whiles  the  maidens  sang,  and  whiles  they  told  tales  of 
old  days,  and  whiles  they  joined  hands  and  danced  together  on 
the  sweet  summer  dust  of  the  highway.  Then  they  mostly  grew 
aweary,  and  sat  down  on  the  banks  of  the  road  or  under  their 
leafy  bowers. 

Noon  came,  and  therewithal  goodwives  of  the  neighbouring 
Dale,  who  brought  them  meat  and  drink,  and  fruit  and  fresh 
flowers  from  the  teeming  gardens ; and  thereafter  for  a while 
they  nursed  their  joy  in  their  bosoms,  and  spake  but  little  and 
softly  while  the  day  was  at  its  hottest  in  the  early  afternoon. 

Then  came  out  of  Burgstead  men  making  semblance  of  chap- 
men with  a wain  bearing  wares,  and  they  made  as  though  they 
were  wending  down  the  Portway  westward  to  go  out  of  the 
Dale.  Then  arose  the  weaponed  maidens  and  barred  the  way 
to  them,  and  turned  them  back  amidst  fresh-springing  merriment. 

Again  in  a while,  when  the  sun  was  westering  and  the  shadows 
growing  long,  came  herdsmen  from  down  the  Dale  driving  neat, 
and  making  as  though  they  would  pass  by  into  Burgstead,  bat 
to  them  also  did  the  maidens  gainsay  the  road,  so  that  needs 
must  they  turn  back  amidst  laughter  and  mockery,  they  them- 
selves also  laughing  and  mocking. 

And  so  at  last,  when  the  maidens  had  been  all  alone  a while, 
and  it  was  now  hard  on  sunset,  they  drew  together  and  stood  in 
a ring,  and  fell  to  singing ; and  one  Gold-may  of  the  House  of  the 
Bridge,  a most  sweet  singer,  stood  amidst  their  ring  and  led  them. 
And  this  is  somewhat  of  the  meaning  of  their  words  : 

The  sun  will  not  tarry ; now  changeth  the  light. 

Fail  the  colours  that  marry  the  Day  to  the  Night. 

412 


Amid  the  sun’s  burning  bright  weapons  we  bore, 

For  this  eve  of  our  earning  comes  once  and  no  more. 

For  to-day  hath  no  brother  in  yesterday’s  tide, 

And  to-morrow  no  other  alike  it  doth  hide. 

This  day  is  the  token  of  oath  and  behest 

That  ne’er  shall  be  broken  through  ill  days  and  best. 

Here  the  troth  hath  been  given,  the  oath  hath  been  done, 
To  the  Folk  that  hath  thriven  well  under  the  sun. 

And  the  gifts  of  its  giving  our  troth-day  shall  win 
Are  the  Dale  for  our  living  and  dear  days  therein. 

O Sun,  now  thou  wanest ! yet  come  back  and  see 
Amidst  all  that  thou  gainest  how  gainful  are  we. 

O witness  of  sorrow  wide  over  the  earth. 

Rise  up  on  the  morrow  to  look  on  our  mirth  ! 

Thy  blooms  art  thou  bringing  back  ever  for  men, 

And  thy  birds  are  a-singing  each  summer  again. 

But  to  men  little-hearted  what  winter  is  worse 
Than  thy  summers  departed  that  bore  them  the  curse  ? 

And  e’en  such  art  thou  knowing  where  thriveth  the  year. 
And  good  is  all  growing  save  thralldom  and  fear. 

Nought  such  be  our  lovers’  hearts  drawing  anigh. 

While  yet  thy  light  hovers  aloft  in  the  sky. 

Lo  the  seeker,  the  finder  of  Death  in  the  Blade ! 

What  lips  shall  be  kinder  on  lips  of  mine  laid  ? 

Lo  he  that  hath  driven  back  tribes  of  the  South  ! 
Sweet-breathed  is  thine  even,  but  sweeter  his  mouth. 

413 


The  Brides 
sing  togefhe 


Heie  come 
the  Grooms. 


Come  back  from  the  sea  then,  O sun ! come  aback, 

Look  adown,  look  on  me  then,  and  ask  what  I lack ! 

Come  many  a morrow  to  gaze  on  the  Dale, 

And  if  e’er  thou  seest  sorrow  remember  its  tale  ! 

For  ’twill  be  of  a story  to  tell  how  men  died 

In  the  garnering  of  glory  that  no  man  may  hide. 

O sun  sinking  under  ! O fragrance  of  earth  ! 

O heart ! O the  wonder  whence  longing  has  birth  ! 

So  they  sang,  and  the  sun  sank  indeed ; and  amidst  their 
singing  the  eve  was  still  about  them,  though  there  came  a happy 
murmur  from  the  face  of  the  meadows  and  the  houses  of  the 
Thorp  aloof.  But  as  their  song  fell  they  heard  the  sound  of 
footsteps  a many  on  the  road ; so  they  turned  and  stood  with 
beating  hearts  in  such  order  as  when  a band  of  the  valiant  draw 
together  to  meet  many  foes  coming  on  them  from  all  sides,  and 
they  stand  back  to  back  to  face  all  comers.  And  even  there- 
with, their  raiment  gleaming  amidst  the  gathering  dusk,  came 
on  them  the  young  men  of  the  Dale  newly  delivered  from  the 
grief  of  war. 

Then  in  very  deed  the  fierce  mouths  of  the  raisers  of  the  war- 
shout  were  kind  on  the  faces  of  tender  maidens.  Then  went 
spear  and  axe  and  helm  and  shield  clattering  to  the  earth,  as 
the  arms  of  the  new-comers  went  round  about  the  bodies  of  the 
Brides,  weary  with  the  long  day  of  sunshine,  and  glee  and  loving 
speech,  and  the  maidens  suffered  the  young  men  to  lead  them 
whither  they  would,  and  twilight  began  to  draw  round  about 
them  as  the  Maiden  Band  was  sundered. 

Some,  they  were  led  away  westward  down  the  Portway  to 
the  homesteads  thereabout ; and  for  divers  of  these  the  way  was 
long  to  their  halls,  and  they  would  have  to  wend  over  long 
stretches  of  dewy  meadows,  and  hear  the  night-wind  whisper  in 

414 


many  a tree,  and  see  the  east  begin  to  lighten  with  the  dawn  Gold-mane 
before  they  came  to  the  lighted  feast  that  awaited  them.  But  the  Sun- 
some  turned  up  the  Portway  straight  towards  Burgstead ; and 
short  was  their  road  to  the  halls  where  even  now  the  lights  were 
being  kindled  for  their  greeting. 

As  for  the  Sun-beam,  she  had  been  very  quiet  the  day  long, 
speaking  as  little  as  she  might  do,  laughing  not  at  all,  and 
smiling  for  kindness’  sake  rather  than  for  merriment ; and  when 
the  grooms  came  seeking  their  maidens,  she  withdrew  herself 
from  the  band,  and  stood  alone  amidst  the  road  nigher  to 
Burgstead  than  they ; and  her  heart  beat  hard,  and  her  breath 
came  short  and  quick,  as  though  fear  had  caught  her  in  its  grip ; 
and  indeed  for  one  moment  of  time  she  feared  that  he  was  not 
coming  to  her.  For  he  had  gone  with  the  other  grooms  to  that 
gathered  band,  and  had  passed  from  one  to  the  other,  not  find- 
ing her,  till  he  had  got  him  through  the  whole  company,  and 
beheld  her  awaiting  him.  Then  indeed  he  bounded  toward  her, 
and  caught  her  by  the  hands,  and  then  by  the  shoulders,  and 
drew  her  to  him,  and  she  nothing  loth ; and  in  that  while  he 
said  to  her  : 

‘ Come  then,  my  friend  ; lo  thou ! they  go  each  their  own  way 
toward  the  halls  of  their  houses  ; and  for  thee  have  I chosen  a 
way — a way  over  the  foot-bridge  yonder,  and  over  the  dewy 
meadows  on  this  best  even  of  the  year.’ 

‘ Nay,  nay,'  she  said,  ‘ it  may  not  be.  Surely  the  Burgstead 
grooms  look  to  thee  to  lead  them  to  the  gate  ; and  surely  in  the 
House  of  the  Face  they  look  to  see  thee  before  any  other.  Nay, 

Gold-mane,  my  dear,  we  must  needs  go  by  the  Portway.’ 

He  said:  ‘We  shall  be  home  but  a very  little  while  after 
the  first,  for  the  way  I tell  of  is  as  short  as  the  Portway.  But 
hearken,  my  sweet ! When  we  are  in  the  meadows  we  shall  sit 
down  for  a minute  on  a bank  under  the  chestnut  trees,  and 
thence  watch  the  moon  coming  up  over  the  southern  cliffs.  And 
I shall  behold  thee  in  the  summer  night,  and  deem  that  I see 

415 


He  telleth  of 
the  Path  ot 
the  Wedding. 


all  thy  beauty ; which  yet  shall  make  me  dumb  with  wonder 
when  I see  it  indeed  in  the  house  amongst  the  candles.’ 

‘ O nay,’  she  said,  ‘ b}-  the  Portway  shall  we  go ; the  torch- 
bearers  shall  be  abiding  thee  at  the  gate.’ 

Spake  Face-of-god  : ^Then  shall  we  rise  up  and  wend  first 
through  a wide  treeless  meadow,  wherein  amidst  the  night  we 
shall  behold  the  kine  moving  about  like  odorous  shadows ; and 
through  the  greyness  of  the  moonlight  thou  shalt  deem  that 
thou  seest  the  pink  colour  of  the  eglantine  blossoms,  so  fragrant 
they  are.’ 

‘ O nay,’  she  said,  ‘ but  it  is  meet  that  we  go  by  the  Portway.’ 
But  he  said  : ^ Then  from  the  wide  meadow  come  we  into 
a close  of  corn,  and  then  into  an  orchard-close  beyond  it.  There 
in  the  ancient  walnut-tree  the  owl  sitteth  breathing  hard  in  the 
night-time  ; but  thou  shalt  not  hear  him  for  the  joy  of  the 
nightingales  singing  from  the  apple-trees  of  the  close.  Then 
from  out  of  the  shadowed  orchard  shall  we  come  into  the  open 
town-meadow,  and  over  its  daisies  shall  the  moonlight  be  lying 
in  a grey  flood  of  brightness. 

‘ Short  is  the  way  across  it  to  the  brim  of  the  Weltering  Water, 
and  across  the  water  lieth  the  fair  garden  of  the  Face  ; and  I have 
dight  for  thee  there  a little  boat  to  waft  us  across  the  night-dark 
waters,  that  shall  be  like  wavering  flames  of  white  fire  where 
the  moon  smites  them,  and  like  the  void  of  all  things  where  the 
shadows  hang  over  them.  There  then  shall  we  be  in  the  garden, 
beholding  how  the  hall-windows  are  yellow,  and  hearkening 
the  sound  of  the  hall-glee  borne  across  the  flowers  and  blending 
with  the  voice  of  the  nightingales  in  the  trees.  There  then  shall 
we  go  along  the  grass  paths  whereby  the  pinks  and  the  cloves 
and  the  lavender  are  sending  forth  their  fragrance,  to  cheer  us, 
who  faint  at  the  scent  of  the  over-worn  roses,  and  the  honey- 
sweetness of  the  lilies. 

‘ All  this  is  for  thee,  and  for  nought  but  for  thee  this  even ; 
and  many  a blossom  whereof  thou  knowest  nought  shall  grieve  if 

4.16 


thy  foot  tread  not  thereby  to-night ; if  the  path  of  thy  wedding 
which  I have  made,  be  void  of  thee,  on  the  even  of  the  Chamber 
of  Love. 

‘ But  lo ! at  last  at  the  garden’s  end  is  the  yew-walk  arched 
over  for  thee,  and  thou  canst  not  see  whereby  to  enter  it ; but  I, 
I know  it,  and  I lead  thee  into  and  along  the  dark  tunnel  through 
the  moonlight,  and  thine  hand  is  not  weary  of  mine  as  we  go. 
But  at  the  end  shall  we  come  to  a wicket,  which  shall  bring  us 
out  by  the  gable-end  of  the  Hall  of  the  Face.  Turn  we  about  its 
corner  then,  and  there  are  we  blinking  on  the  torches  of  the  torch- 
bearers,  and  the  candles  through  the  open  door,  and  the  hall 
ablaze  with  light  and  full  of  joyous  clamour,  like  the  bale-fire  in 
the  dark  night  kindled  on  a ness  above  the  sea  by  fisher-folk 
remembering  the  Gods.’ 

‘ O nay,’  she  said,  ‘ but  by  the  Portway  must  we  go ; the 
straightest  way  to  the  Gate  of  Burgstead.’ 

In  vain  she  spake,  and  knew  not  what  she  said ; for  even  as 
he  was  speaking  he  led  her  away,  and  her  feet  went  as  her  will 
went,  rather  than  her  words ; and  even  as  she  said  that  last  word 
she  set  her  foot  on  the  first  board  of  the  foot-bridge ; and  she 
turned  aback  one  moment,  and  saw  the  long  line  of  the  rock- 
wall  yet  glowing  with  the  last  of  the  sunset  of  midsummer,  while 
as  she  turned  again,  lo ! before  her  the  moon  just  beginning  to 
lift  himself  above  the  edge  of  the  southern  cliffs,  and  betwixt  her 
and  him  all  Burgdale,  and  Face-of-god  moreover. 

Thus  then  they  crossed  the  bridge  into  the  green  meadows, 
and  through  the  closes  and  into  the  garden  of  the  Face  and  unto 
the  Hall-door ; and  other  brides  and  grooms  were  there  before 
them  (for  six  grooms  had  brought  home  brides  to  the  House 
of  the  Face) ; but  none  deemed  it  amiss  in  the  War-leader  of 
the  folk  and  the  love  that  had  led  him.  And  old  Stone-face 
said  : ‘Too  many  are  the  rows  of  bee-skeps  in  the  gardens  of 
the  Dale  that  we  should  begrudge  wayward  lovers  an  hour’s 
waste  of  candle-light.’ 

417  3H 


They  wend 
the  Wed- 
ding Path 
together. 


The  oath 
accomplished. 


So  at  last  those  twain  went  up  the  sun-bright  Hall  hand  in 
hand  in  all  their  loveliness,  and  up  on  to  the  dais,  and  stood 
together  by  the  middle  seat ; and  the  tumult  of  the  joy  of  the 
kindred  was  hushed  for  a while  as  they  saw  that  there  was 
speech  in  the  mouth  of  the  War-leader. 

Then  he  spread  his  hands  abroad  before  them  all  and  cried 
out : ‘ How  then  have  I kept  mine  oath,  whereas  I swore  on  the 
Holy  Boar  to  wed  the  fairest  woman  of  the  world  ? ’ 

A mighty  shout  went  rattling  about  the  timbers  of  the  roof  in 
answer  to  his  word ; and  they  that  looked  up  to  the  gable  of  the 
Hall  said  that  they  saw  the  ray-ringed  image  of  the  God  smile 
with  joy  over  the  gathered  folk. 

But  spake  Iron-face  unheard  amidst  the  clamour  of  the  Hall : 
* How  fares  it  now  with  my  darling  and  my  daughter,  who 
dwelleth  amongst  strangers  in  the  land  beyond  the  wild-wood  ? ’ 


CHAPTER  LIX.  THE  BEHEST  OF  FACE-OF-GOD  TO 
THE  BRIDE  ACCOMPLISHED  : A MOTE-STEAD  AP- 

POINTED FOR  THE  THREE  FOLKS,  TO  WIT,  THE 
MEN  OF  BURGDALE,  THE  SHEPHERDS,  AND  THE 
CHILDREN  OF  THE  WOLF. 

Three  years  and  two  months  thereafter,  three  hours  after 
noon  in  the  days  of  early  autumn,  came  a wain  tilted  over 
with  precious  webs  of  cloth,  and  drawn  by  eight  white 
oxen,  into  the  Market-place  of  Silver-stead  : two  score  and  ten 
of  spearmen  of  the  tallest,  clad  in  goodly  war-gear,  went  beside  it, 
and  much  people  of  Silver-dale  thronged  about  them.  The  wain 
stayed  at  the  foot  of  the  stair  that  led  up  to  the  door  of  the  Mote- 
house,  and  there  lighted  down  therefrom  a woman  goodly  of 
fashion,  with  wide  grey  eyes,  and  face  and  hands  brown  with  the 
sun’s  burning.  She  had  a helm  on  her  head  and  a sword  girt  to 
her  side,  and  in  her  arms  she  bore  a yearling  child. 

418 


And  there  was  come  Bow-may  with  the  second  man-child  born 
to  Face-of-god. 

She  stayed  not  amidst  the  wondering  folk,  but  hastened  up 
the  stair,  which  she  had  once  seen  running  with  the  blood  of 
men  : the  door  was  open,  and  she  went  in  and  walked  straight- 
way, with  the  babe  in  her  arms,  up  the  great  Hall  to  the  dais. 

There  were  men  on  the  dais  : amidmost  sat  Folk-might,  little 
changed  since  the  last  day  she  had  seen  him,  yet  fairer,  she 
deemed,  than  of  old  time ; and  her  heart  went  forth  to  meet  the 
Chieftain  of  her  Folk,  and  the  glad  tears  started  in  her  eyes  and 
ran  down  her  cheeks  as  she  drew  near  to  him. 

By  his  side  sat  the  Bride,  and  her  also  Bow-may  deemed  to 
have  waxed  goodlier.  Both  she  and  Folk-might  knew  Bow- 
may  ere  she  had  gone  half  the  length  of  the  hall ; and  the  Bride 
rose  up  in  her  place  and  cried  out  Bow-may’s  name  joyously. 

With  these  were  sitting  the  elders  of  the  Wolf  and  the 
Woodlanders,  the  more  part  of  whom  Bow-may  knew  well. 

On  the  dais  also  stood  aside  a score  of  men  weaponed,  and 
looking  as  if  they  were  awaiting  the  word  which  should  send 
them  forth  on  some  errand. 

Now  stood  up  Folk-might  and  said  : ‘ Fair  greeting  and  love 
to  my  friend  and  the  daughter  of  my  Folk  ! How  farest  thou. 
Bow-may,  best  of  all  friendly  women  ? How  fareth  my  sister, 
and  Face-of-god  my  brother  ? and  how  is  it  with  our  friends  and 
helpers  in  the  goodly  Dale  ? ’ 

Said  Bow-may : Ht  is  well  both  with  all  those  and  with  me ; and 
my  heart  laughs  to  see  thee.  Folk-might,  and  to  look  on  the  elders 
of  the  valiant,  and  our  lovely  sister  the  Bride.  But  I have  a mes- 
sage for  thee  from  Face-of-god  : wilt  thou  that  I deliver  it  here  ? ’ 

‘ Yea  surely,’  said  Folk-might,  and  came  forth  and  took  her 
hand,  and  kissed  her  cheeks  and  her  mouth.  The  Bride  also 
came  forth  and  cast  her  arms  about  her,  and  kissed  her ; and  they 
led  her  between  them  to  a seat  on  the  dais  beside  Folk-might. 

But  all  men  looked  on  the  child  in  her  arms  and  wondered 

419 


Bow-may  in 
the  Mote- 
house  of 
Silver-dale. 


The  Bride 
taketh  Gold- 
mane’s  babe. 
A message  to 
Folk-might. 


what  it  was.  But  Bow-may  took  the  babe,  which  was  both  fair 
and  great,  and  set  it  on  the  knees  of  the  Bride,  and  said  : 

‘Thus  saith  Face-of-god  ; “Friend  and  kinswoman,  well- 
beloved  playmate,  the  gift  which  thou  badest  of  me  in  sorrow  do 
thou  now  take  in  joy,  and  do  all  the  good  thou  w-ouldest  to  the 
son  of  thy  friend.  The  ring  which  I gave  thee  once  in  the  garden 
of  the  Face,  give  thou  to  Bow-may,  my  trusty  and  well-beloved, 
in  token  of  the  fulfilment  of  my  behest.”  ’ 

Then  the  Bride  kissed  Bow-may  again,  and  fell  to  fondling  of 
the  child,  which  was  loth  to  leave  Bow-may. 

But  she  spake  again  : ‘To  thee  also.  Folk-might,  I have  a 
message  from  Face-of-god,  who  saith  : “ Mighty  warrior,  friend 
and  fellow,  all  things  thrive  with  us,  and  we  are  happy.  Yet  is 
there  a hollow  place  in  our  hearts  which  grieveth  us,  and  only 
thou  and  thine  may  amend  it.  Though  whiles  we  hear  tell  of 
thee,  yet  we  see  thee  not,  and  fain  were  we,  might  we  see  thee, 
and  wot  if  the  said  tales  be  true.  Wilt  thou  help  us  somewhat 
herein,  or  wilt  thou  leave  us  all  the  labour  ? For  sure  we  be  that 
thou  wilt  not  say  that  thou  rememberest  us  no  more,  and  that  thy 
love  for  us  is  departed.”  This  is  his  message.  Folk-might,  and 
he  would  have  an  answer  from  thee.’ 

Then  laughed  Folk-might  and  said  : ‘ Sister  Bow-may,  seest 
thou  these  weaponed  men  hereby  ? ’ 

‘ Yea,’  she  said. 

Said  he  : ‘ These  men  bear  a message  with  them  to  Face-of- 
god  my  brother.  Crow  the  Shaft-speeder,  stand  forth  and  tell 
thy  friend  Bow-may  the  message  I have  set  in  thy  mouth,  every 
word  of  it.’ 

Then  Crow  stood  forth  and  greeted  Bow-may  friendly,  and 
said  : ‘ Friend  Bow-may,  this  is  the  message  of  our  Alderman  : 
“ Friend  and  helper,  in  the  Dale  which  thou  hast  given  to  us  do 
all  things  thrive  ; neither  are  we  grown  old  in  three  years’  wear- 
ing, nor  are  our  memories  worsened.  We  long  sore  to  see  you 
and  give  you  guesting  in  Silver-dale,  and  one  day  that  shall 

420 


befall.  Meanwhile,  know  this  : that  we  of  the  Wolf  and  the  A message  to 

Woodland,  mindful  of  the  earth  that  bore  us,  and  the  pit  whence  I^ace-of-god. 

we  were  digged,  have  a mind  to  go  see  Shadowy  Vale  once  in 

every  three  years,  and  there  to  hold  high-tide  in  the  ancient  Hall 

of  the  Wolf,  and  sit  in  the  Doom-ring  of  our  Fathers.  But  since 

ye  have  joined  yourselves  to  us  in  battle,  and  have  given  us  this 

Dale,  our  health  and  wealth,  without  price  and  without  reward, 

we  deem  you  our  very  brethren,  and  small  shall  be  our  hall-glee, 

and  barren  shall  our  Doom-ring  seem  to  us,  unless  ye  sit  there 

beside  us.  Come  then,  that  we  may  rejoice  each  other  by  the 

sight  of  face  and  sound  of  voice ; that  we  may  speak  together 

of  matters  that  concern  our  welfare  ; so  that  we  three  Kindreds 

may  become  one  Folk.  And  if  this  seem  good  to  you,  know 

that  we  shall  be  in  Shadowy  Vale  in  a half-month’s  wearing. 

Grieve  us  not  by  forbearing  to  come.”  Lo,  Bow-may,  this  is  the 
message,  and  I have  learned  it  well,  for  well  it  pleaseth  me  to 
bear  it.’ 

Then  said  Folk-might : ‘ What  say’st  thou  to  the  message. 

Bow-may  ? ’ 

‘ It  is  good  in  all  ways,’  said  she,  ‘ but  is  it  timely  ? May  our 
folk  have  the  message  and  get  to  Shadowy  Vale,  so  as  to  meet 
you  there  ? ’ 

‘Yea  surely,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘for  our  kinsmen  here  shall 
take  the  road  through  Shadowy  Vale,  and  in  four  days’  time  they 
shall  be  in  Burgdale,  and  as  thou  wottest,  it  is  scant  a two  days’ 
journey  thence  to  Shadowy  Vale.’ 

Therewith  he  turned  to  those  men  again,  and  said  : ‘ Kinsman 
Crow,  depart  now,  and  use  all  diligence  with  thy  message.’ 

So  the  messengers  began  to  stir ; but  Bow-may  cried  out : 

‘ Ho ! Folk-might,  my  friend,  I perceive  thou  art  little  changed 
from  the  man  I knew  in  Shadowy  Vale,  who  would  have  his 
dinner  before  the  fowl  were  plucked.  For  shall  I not  go  back 
with  these  thy  messengers,  so  that  I also  may  get  all  ready  to 
wend  to  the  Mote-house  of  Shadowy  Vale  ? ’ 

421 


Bow-may 
tells  of  her 
wedding. 


But  the  Bride  looked  kindly  on  her,  and  laughed  and  said : 
‘ Sister  Bow-may,  his  meaning  is  that  thou  shouldest  abide  here 
in  Silver-dale  till  we  depart  for  the  Folk-thing,  and  then  go 
thither  with  us  ; and  this  I also  pray  thee  to  do,  that  thou  mayst 
rejoice  the  hearts  of  thine  old  friends  ; and  also  that  thou  mayst 
teach  me  all  that  I should  know  concerning  this  fair  child  of  my 
brother  and  my  sister.’ 

And  she  looked  on  her  so  kindly  as  she  caressed  the  babe, 
that  Bow-may’s  heart  melted,  and  she  cried  out : 

^ Would  that  I might  never  depart  from  the  house  wherein 
thou  dwellest,  O Bride  of  my  Kinsman  ! And  this  that  thou  bid- 
dest  me  is  easy  and  pleasant  for  me  to  do.  But  afterwards  I 
must  get  me  back  to  Burgdale ; for  I seem  to  have  left  much 
there  that  calleth  for  me.’ 

‘Yea,’  said  Folk-might,  ‘and  art  thou  wedded.  Bow-may? 
Shalt  thou  never  bend  the  yew  in  battle  again  ? ’ 

Said  Bow-may  soberly  : ‘ Who  knoweth,  chieftain  ? Yea, 

I am  wedded  now  these  two  years ; and  nought  I looked  for 
less  when  I followed  those  twain  through  the  wild-wood  to 
Burgdale.’ 

She  sighed  therewith,  and  said  : ‘ In  all  the  Dale  there  is  no 
better  man  of  his  hands  than  my  man,  nor  any  goodlier  to  look 
on,  and  he  is  even  that  Hart  of  Highcliff  whom  thou  knowest 
well,  O Bride ! ’ 

Said  the  Bride  : ‘ Thou  sayest  sooth,  there  is  no  better  man  in 
the  Dale.’ 

Said  Bow-may : ‘ Sun-beam  bade  me  wed  him  when  he  pressed 
hard  upon  me.’  She  stayed  awhile,  and  then  said  ; ‘ Face-of-god 
also  deemed  I should  not  naysay  the  man ; and  now  my  son  by 
him  is  of  like  age  to  this  little  one.’ 

‘ Good  is  thy  story,’  said  Folk-might;  ‘ or  deemest  thou,  Bow- 
may,  that  such  strong  and  goodly  women  as  thou,  and  women  so 
kind  and  friendlj%  should  forbear  the  wedding  and  the  bringing 
forth  of  children  ? Yea,  and  we  who  may  even  yet  have  to  gather 

422 


to  another  field  before  we  die,  and  fight  for  life  and  the  goods 
of  life.’ 

‘ Thou  sayest  well,’  she  said ; * all  that  hath  befallen  me  is 
good  since  the  day  whereon  I loosed  shaft  from  the  break  of  the 
bent  over  yonder.’ 

Therewith  she  fell  a-musing,  and  made  as  though  she  were 
hearkening  to  the  soft  voice  of  the  Bride  caressing  the  new-come 
baby ; but  in  sooth  neither  heard  nor  saw  what  was  going  on 
about  her,  for  her  thoughts  were  in  bygone  days.  Howbeit 
presently  she  came  to  herself  again,  and  fell  to  asking  many 
questions  concerning  Silver-dale  and  the  kindred,  and  those 
who  had  once  been  thralls  of  the  Dusky  Men ; and  they  answered 
all  duly,  and  told  her  the  whole  story  of  the  Dale  since  the  Day 
of  the  Victory. 

So  Bow-may  and  the  carles  who  had  come  with  her  abode  for 
that  half-month  in  Silver-dale,  guested  in  all  love  by  the  folk 
thereof,  both  the  kindreds  and  the  poor  folk.  And  Bow-may 
deemed  that  the  Bride  loved  Face-of-god’s  child  little  less  than 
her  own,  whereof  she  had  two,  a man  and  a woman  ; and  thereat 
was  she  full  of  joy,  since  she  knew  that  Face-of-god  and  the 
Sun-beam  would  be  fain  thereof. 

Thereafter,  when  the  time  was  come,  fared  Folk-might  and 
the  Bride,  and  many  of  the  elders  and  warriors  of  the  Wolf  and 
the  Woodland,  to  Shadowy  Vale;  and  Dallach  and  the  best  of 
Rose-dale  went  with  them,  being  so  bidden  ; and  Bow-may  and 
her  following,  according  to  the  word  of  the  Bride.  And  in  Shadowy 
Vale  they  met  Face-of-god  and  Alderman  Iron-face,  and  the 
chiefs  of  Burgdale  and  the  Shepherds,  and  many  others ; and 
great  joy  there  was  at  the  meeting.  And  the  Sun-beam  re- 
membered the  word  which  she  spoke  to  Face-of-god  when  first 
he  came  to  Shadowy  Vale,  that  she  would  be  wishful  to  see 
again  the  dwelling  wherein  she  had  passed  through  so  much  joy 
and  sorrow  of  her  younger  days.  But  if  anyone  were  fain  of 
this  meeting,  the  Alderman  was  glad  above  all,  when  he  took  the 

423 


They  meet  in 

Shadowy 

Vale. 


Those  kin-  Bride  once  more  in  his  arms,  and  caressed  her  whom  he  had 
dreds  grow  deemed  should  be  a very  daughter  of  his  House, 
into  one  Folk.  Now  telleth  the  tale  of  all  these  kindreds,  to  wit,  the  Men  of 

Burgdale  and  the  Sheepcotes  ; and  the  Children  of  the  Wolf,  and 
the  Woodlanders,  and  the  Men  of  Rose-dale,  that  they  were 
friends  henceforth,  and  became  as  one  Folk,  for  better  or  worse, 
in  peace  and  in  war,  in  waning  and  waxing  ; and  that  whatso- 
ever befell  them,  they  ever  held  Shadowy  Vale  a holy  place,  and 
for  long  and  long  after  they  met  there  in  mid-autumn,  and  held 
converse  and  counsel  together. 

No  MORE  AS  NOW  TELLETH  THE  TALE  OF  THESE 

Kindreds  and  Folks,  but  maketh  an  ending. 


CHISWICK  PRESS  C.  WHITTINGHAM  AND  CO.,  TOOKS  COURT, 
CHANCERY  LANK. 


